Absolution
by Cyberwraith9
Summary: The end of an era. The beginning of a legend. OLYMPUS: The hunt for the truth leads the Titans onto a dark and dangerous path, and the only one who can guide them is the one person they dare not trust.
1. The Final Moment

_Disclaimer_

**Teen Titans** is a registered trademark of DC Comics and Cartoon Network Inc. All trademarked characters, locations, themes and ideas are used without permission in a work of fan-created fiction. The following has been done without profit for purely entertainment purposes. All original concepts, characters, themes and ideas within are the copyrighted property of the author, and are not to be reproduced without his prior consent. Additional information used in creating **Teen Titans: Absolution** is courtesy of Titans Tower Online.

What follows is the third part in a trilogy. For the full experience, please begin with Avatar and continue through Adaptation before reading this story. Both are available on my Author page. Otherwise, enjoy!

* * *

**Teen Titans  
****Absolution**

_By Cyberwraith9_

* * *

**Prologue_: _**_The Final Moment_

* * *

_Three days from now._

Everything hurt.

The pain rang in Robin's ears as he drifted back from blackness. Whispers of a dream clung to his mind, turning to vapor as he tried to grasp it. He remembered a hood, and cloak, and dark eyes, and a gentle hand pressed to his face.

The world outside his dream smelled stale and pressed icily against his back. When Robin tried cracking his eyelid, a muted light stabbed his eye, forcing it shut again. He lay perfectly still and focused his efforts on extinguishing the fire in his skull instead. Minutes or centuries later, when he could think again, he took stock of his surroundings as best he could without moving or looking.

He was inside a structure. The winter rain pounded on a high metal roof. Water dripped, echoing off of far walls. The air didn't stir. It was cool, but not cold.

_An old warehouse_, he guessed. And since he didn't hear the ocean outside, that most likely put him just outside of Jump Central, in the old industrial district.

A light twitch of his nose made his stomach clench: his mask was gone. The only thing covering his eyes were the bruises swelling in his face.

His whole costume was gone. He felt a light sheet covering him from the waist down, with an identical sheet spread over a metal table on which he lay. He didn't feel any restraints on his wrists or ankles.

Footsteps approached, making the table vibrate. His table was on an elevated platform of some kind, judging by the echo and clank of the footfalls. He ignored the urge to tense up and forced his breathing to remain shallow. Then he waited.

The footfalls stopped at the side of his table. Quickened, pleasantly minty breath hovered over him for a handful of unbearable seconds. A fingertip took his pulse, warm and electric against the soft flesh of his neck. Then he felt a steadying grasp around his arm, and the prick of a needle being pressed into the crook of his elbow.

Robin exploded from the table in a whirl of sheets and limbs. The hypodermic needle spun into the air, falling into his waiting grasp before his bare feet slapped the cold metal grating beneath him. With a jab across the table, he pressed the needle's point beneath the trembling chin of his would-be poisoner.

The dark-haired girl sucked back a yelp, her eyes wide, her fair skin paling. "Wow," she said breathlessly, and lifted her hands in surrender. "You are really fast."

"Who are you?" Robin snarled. "Do you work for Immortus?"

The girl swallowed hard, wincing at the needle's point. "My name is Wendy," she stammered. "Wendy Harris. I don't work for anybody. I don't even go to school. I've never heard of Immortus. I'm a huge fan of yours, and I don't know your face, so please, please, please, please, please don't kill me."

Robin examined her, keeping the hypodermic needle in place. Her threadbare clothes and tattered shoes struck a deep cord in him, harkening back to another lifetime, when Tim Drake had been a punk living on dumpsters and stolen doughnuts.

"You removed my mask," he said.

Excitement sparked in Wendy's eyes. "I know, right?" she said brightly. "Electro-reactive material that forms a static bond with skin? It took us almost an hour to figure it out. Once we did, of course, it wasn't hard to find the electrodes in the tips of your gloves. It would only make sense to keep the means for bonding the mask close at hand, if you'll forgive the pun."

"…let me rephrase that," Robin drawled. "You removed my mask. Why?"

Wendy turned pink. "Oh. Your face was really swollen, so we wanted to get it out of the way to make sure you didn't lose an eye. You didn't, by the way. Would you, um, like it back?" Her eyes flicked down, and her pink face turned red. "And your other clothes?"

Robin grunted at the cold touch of air between his legs. "Yes. Please," he said.

"Okay." Wendy said. A few second later, she added, "That would be a lot easier if you weren't threatening me."

"Oh." Robin lowered the needle.

The color faded from Wendy's face as she backed away from the table. She fairly flew down a set of rickety stairs leading to the concrete floor. The drafty seconds she was away allowed Robin to take in his surroundings. He had been right about the broad strokes. But the details blew him away.

The expansive warehouse had been scrubbed clean so that only a few dark stains marred the floor. A string of windows circled the building near the ceiling, revealing Jump City's rainy season blanking the sky as it knocked steadily on the corrugated roof.

Robin was stunned by the warehouse's interior. The large space had been divided into groups of furniture, like rooms without walls. There were two beds, one each on opposite sides of the building, blocked from view of each other by privacy screens. Worktables dotted the floor between the beds. One table was buried in a bank of computers. Another held mechanical garbage seemingly dug out of a mountain of rust. Still another table had chemicals of all colors in test tubes and beakers. There were other mechanical projects kept on tarps, or hung from chains, and a half-built car on blocks by the old loading dock door. The building was more a lab than anything else, and a far cry from what Robin had expected.

The raised platform on which he stood was made from scavenged metal, and appeared to be a shared living area. Three refrigerators puttered at the edge of the grating, seated next to a freestanding oven. The table on which he'd laid was in the middle of the makeshift kitchen.

The nearby wall was plastered with scrawled blueprints and circuitry layouts dotted with yellow post-it notes. Robin couldn't fathom half of what the designs were. And in the middle of the collage was a single framed photo of—

Robin stared in shock at the framed eight-by-ten photo. It consumed him to the point where he jumped in shock when Wendy tapped his shoulder from behind.

His startle made Wendy shriek and flinch, holding his folded uniform in front of her like a shield. "Sorry! Sorry. Here you go," she stammered. "Sorry. Were you looking at some...oh! The picture."

Heartache stabbed his chest as he turned away, accepting the uniform from Wendy's trembling grasp. "Yeah. I didn't…" His eyes squeezed shut. "I wasn't expecting to see them. That's all."

Wendy stepped around him, focusing on the photograph as Robin dressed behind her. The two smiling super heroes posed in front of a bookshelf with her and a gangly boy made her grin. "Yeah. That was an awesome day. I could tell they were busy in the bookstore—especially because they saved our lives later—but Cyborg and Raven still stopped to take a picture with us. They were really awesome. Whatever happened to them?"

As Wendy turned, she saw Robin pressing a black domino to his face, completing the transformation. A scalloped black cape fell over him, obscuring the bare spot where his utility belt would have been.

"Wow," she breathed.

"How long have I been unconscious?" he asked.

She shook her head clear of dreamy remembrance. "Um, a couple of hours. We found you in an alley behind some garbage cans," Wendy said. "Somebody messed you up pretty bad."

"Where are we?" Robin said, starting for the distant warehouse door.

Wendy followed a few steps behind. "This is our lab. And our home. We've kind of been on our own ever since our dad—"

Robin collapsed on one knee. The world around him pitched onto its side, forcing him to catch the grate or flop onto his side. The adrenaline rush of waking in a strange place was gone. Exhaustion and pain had come rushing back with a vengeance.

"Are you okay?" Wendy said, hovering at his side. She didn't quite have the courage to reach to help him.

Robin drew a slow breath, and said, "What day is it?"

"…Thursday?"

Thursday. Three days since he'd last slept. Two days since the ration pills in his utility belt had run out. At least a day since he'd had water. He had been running on fumes, and the fumes had run out."

Had the Titans gotten away? Were they looking for him? He had to find a way to contact them before Immortus caught up to him. Or, more unthinkable, find out if Immortus had caught up with his friends first. He had to keep moving.

He had to keep fighting.

"Maybe you should sit down for a minute," Wendy suggested nervously as Robin pushed onto his feet. "You still don't look so good."

Robin grabbed the rail of the stairs. Somehow his legs reached the bottom without buckling. "Thank you for your help, Wendy. But the longer I stay, the more danger I put you in. I have to…"

He staggered again, halfway to the door, and braced himself on the table of beakers. The glass clattered as he struggled to keep upright.

"Whoa!" Wendy cried, hesitating behind him. "Okay, you are clearly in no shape to—"

The warehouse door _skreeked_ open and clanged shut. A redheaded boy in a hand-me-down hoodie threw himself against the door, panting. Thick lines of sweat and rain cut across his face. "We—"

The boy shrieked and skittered back as a hypodermic needle slammed point-first into the door frame next to him. Its needle sank into the rotted wood, leaving the plunger to quiver with the force of its impact.

Wendy looked in horror at Robin's extended throwing arm. As he struggled to his feet and curled his fists, she threw herself in his way. "No! Don't! That's my brother, Marvin!"

Backed against the wall, Marvin stared at the needle stuck mere inches from his head. His wide eyes trailed to Robin. "Holy crap. You really are him!" he cried. "I was half-convinced you were just one of those guys who works birthday parties!"

"Marvin! What's happening?" Wendy said. "You said you were going out for food."

The fear in Marvin's face returned. "It's like an episode of the Twilight Zone out there! And not the Shatner episode, either. The neighborhood is lousy with creepy guys in giant trench coats. And there's this red-eyed—"

Both teens jumped and shrieked in alarm at a loud scraping noise. They turned and saw Robin shoving the chemical table toward the door. The beakers and tubes rattled, their contents spilling across the stained wood and dribbling over his boots.

"What are you doing?" Wendy cried.

"Wow! You move fast," said Marvin. "Weren't you, like, just out cold a few minutes ago?"

Robin grunted, "We need to go. Now."

Marvin watched, open-mouthed, as Robin hobbled behind another work table and shoved it toward his first makeshift barricade. "Wait. Seriously? You want to go outside with the creep-o convention in full swing?"

Wringing her hands, Wendy insisted, "This is our home. We're safe here."

When the door thumped inward, Wendy shrieked, jumping back. The table's beakers toppled, hissing as they pooled together. A second thump bent the door. A third thump slid the table backward, and peeled back the edge of the door for a vaguely human arm to thrust into the warehouse.

Marvin screamed as the hand carved deep furrows into the corrugated metal wall. "Oh! Oh, shit! What the hell is that?" he sobbed.

Robin slammed the tables together against the door, bending it back and trapping the rogue arm in puckered metal. Immediately, the arm began to tear through the metal to free itself.

He collapsed against the second table, trying to hold it in place. "Back door," he wheezed.

Neither Wendy nor Marvin could answer. They watched in horror as their front door was demolished from the outside. Through the crumpling frame came a furious, inhuman snarl. With cold, trembling lips, Wendy stammered, "What do we do?"

"Back door!" Robin snapped. His battle against the door was a losing one. The two heavy tables jumped into him with each blow struck from outside. "Don't you have another way out of here?" he demanded.

"Yeah. Yes!" Marvin answered. "We cut a hidden door into the back…in the back of…What do these things want? Why are they here?" he cried, losing his train of thought.

"Get to the door and wait for me. Don't open it until I get there!" Robin barked at them in his best Gotham Growl, channeling the commanding tone Batman had used on him.

Even as hoarse as he was, his voice broke through their stupor, and spurred them back toward the raised metal grating. He watched them duck between the platform's supports before another knock to the door rattled through his arms.

The door wrenched free from its hinges. Gloved fists were bending the door over the table one punch at a time.

A long breath washed through Robin, settling over a week's worth of hurt. He pushed away from the table as the last of the door collapsed. For a fleeting second, he mourned his missing belt. Then he steeled himself, and parted his cape over his shoulders.

Fearsome strength exploded through the door wearing a fluttering brown trench coat and matching fedora. The figure scrambled across the two-table barricade and landed in the warehouse on all fours. From beneath the hat's rim, featureless red eyes glared at Robin. It spider-crawled at him with incredible speed, and then leapt at him with hammer fists.

But Robin was ready. His cape billowed, detaching from his neck as he whirled it around his body and into the figure's punch. The heavy black fabric pooled over the figure, covering his face and chest, and tangling in his fist.

With the figure's sharp gesture, the cape came loose. The fedora tumbled after it. The fluttering fabric unveiled a blank, metallic face of smooth alloy interrupted only by two glowing red optic sensors. Its head swiveled with an unnatural independence of its body, its hateful optics following Robin.

The Teen Wonder bounded into the air. With a snarl, he hooked his boot into the robot's skull. The blow tore the robot's head from its shoulders, sending a hail of sparks across the ruined barricade. As the head tumbled, its sparks landed in the spilled chemicals and roared into a furious inferno.

The floor caught Robin on his back. He lay stunned for a second, sucking air, searching for the strength to lift his head. Broken ribs screamed inside his chest. His foot throbbed from the kick. The heat of the flames grew closer, hotter, but still he could not move.

Then a tinny growl pierced the fire. It was the same sound that had hounded him since this nightmare began.

Robin pushed his terror into his limbs, forcing them to push him off the floor. He staggered for the rickety struts where he had last seen Marvin and Wendy. His muscles burned, begging him to quit. He huffed and caught himself against one of the platform's cross-braces, and risked a look over his shoulder.

Through the curtain of flames, a silvery predator erupted into the warehouse. Fire trailed from its paws as it hammered through the tables, flinging splintered wreckage with a toss of its head. Its angular glower swept the room, finding Robin in a second. The jagged scar across its snout gleamed. Its triangle ears perked in anticipation.

"Oh, come on!" Robin howled, and pushed himself deeper under the platform.

The sound of metal claws spurred him toward the two terrified kids huddled next to a makeshift door cut into the side of the warehouse. It had hinges on the inside and a simple latch holding it closed, making it all but invisible from the outside.

Marvin flattened himself against the door and pointed past Robin. "What the hell is that?" he screamed.

"Open the door!" Robin screamed back. He tried not to think of the snapping jaws just a few feet behind him. "Get ready to run!"

Fumbling in unison, the siblings grasped the door's latch. They managed to hurl the door back just in time for Robin to lurch out into the rain.

Only Robin couldn't leave. He stumbled to a halt at the threshold of the door, pierced by the cool gaze of a single eye. Black and red patterned armor blocked his path. A saber swung up as the door open, its haft grasped in gauntleted hands.

Robin stared at Ravager's flashing blade. The metallic hound pounced from behind. His heart pounded, and his vision faded at the edges, becoming a warm, dark blur. He didn't have the energy left to fight. There was nothing he could do.

As the blade descended, Robin felt the anger and pain evaporate from his body. For his entire life, he had prepared for this final moment. He always assumed he would feel a flash of hatred for the psychopathic metahuman or lottery-lucky street thug that punched his ticket. He had promised that, when the end came, he would face it with defiance.

Now, with the end at hand, Robin only felt regret wrapped in the memory of red lips, soft golden skin, and warm green eyes.

"Oh," Robin said, as Ravager and the metal beast fell upon him.

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	2. Limits: Ravaged

_Disclaimer_

**Teen Titans** and all related characters and ideas are the property of DC Comics and Cartoon Network Inc. The following is a work of fan-created fiction intended for entertainment purposes only. Additional information used in creating Teen Titans: Absolution is courtesy of Titans Tower Online.

* * *

**Teen Titans**

_Absolution_

* * *

**Limits**: _Ravaged_

_Now._

"_Tensions continue to rise,_" said the strong-jawed Hank McCoy, "_as the new administration struggles to maintain its promises of reconstruction and reinvigoration. Six months after the event the public is calling the 'Lost Day,' in which an unexplained phenomenon caused the collective world to experience more than six hours of—_"

The tiny television sputtered with static as the box it sat atop rattled with Tek's floor-quaking footsteps. Bushido sighed and unfolded his legs from his seat on the couch. "Perhaps you could walk with a modicum of grace for a change," he suggested to her civilly. "Should you require instruction, I would be happy to accompany you to the zoo so that you might seek tutelage from other elephants."

"Ha, ha," Tek grunted. "How about you sheathe that cutting humor and help out instead?"

She lurched across the floor, swathed in the thick, alloyed folds of her white armor. Its servos strained with the weight of a tremendous glass pane a dozen times her size, which she suspended in front of her between two flat blue sheets of energy projected from her hands.

Bushido watched the half-ton of transparent liquid crystal display technology drift toward the empty window. The ocean wind drifted around the force fields' edges, cold and brisk and wet. Gray skies spat a heavy rain into the ocean, which tossed from the shore of their island to the murky horizon.

He made a great show of examining himself. The simple keikogi he wore hid his strength and his edged arsenal behind loose white folds. It did not, however, conceal a forklift. "What would you have me do?" he asked, staring amusedly as she carried the screen. "Lift with my legs?"

"They didn't teach you super-strength in samurai school?" Tek said. "You know, 'Hefty no Jutsu?' "

Closing his eyes, Bushido groaned, "You stoop to comparing me to a cartoon ninja? If you wish to shame me into suicide, you need only continue."

The tremendous window settled into its housing. The live leads contacted with the window, making it burst with static much like the temporary television did. Tek eased away from the window, dismissing her force fields. "I don't know why you're watching TV up here anyway. Robin moved all the fun stuff downstairs into the new Rec Room. He wants Ops to be a lean, mean, crime-fighting machine from now on."

"Because, as with so many of Robin's noble visions, his separation of operations and recreation is incomplete," Bushido said, and rose from the couch. "Thus we are bereft of both work and play."

Tek's armor split along invisible seams, ratcheting into thousands of individual, interconnected plates. The components slithered over the blue suit of the lithe, lanky teenage girl inside, drawing into the glowing blue point at the small of her back. Tek smoothed back her short, dark hair, and said, "Maybe the work would go faster if you helped more and watched less daytime TV."

Bushido couldn't help but smile at the diminutive girl. The lithe swordsman was no goliath, certainly not compared to his fellow Titans, and yet he couldn't help but marvel at the small girl gifted with such enormous powered armor. Beneath the second skin of her suit, she was skin and bones and ropey, athletic muscle. Her build had a hidden power all of its own, but the way she carried herself made him think that Tek never realized just how strong she was. Such had been the case for as long as he had known her.

"Soap operas are among America's few contributions to the fine arts," Bushido said. "You would rob me of what little culture this land has to offer? Besides, the manual portions of our renovations are largely complete, and I have little to offer in the way of engineering expertise. My skill set lies in destruction, not construction."

She retrieved a soldering gun from her kit and knelt at the base of the newly installed window screen. "Come on, Ry. Being a Titan means more than just pitching in for the death-defying stuff."

Bushido sighed. "We have not defied enough death of late for my tastes. But I have always trusted your wisdom on all matters Titan-ly, Allison, and so I acquiesce to your badgering. I will see if Robin requires my specialized, incredible skills."

Tek grinned. "See? You can always learn new things. 'Allie's always right' is a good lesson to start with. Robin was elbow-deep in the Mainframe last I saw him."

The swordsman offered her a polite bow. The teal ends of his sash swung with his brisk gait as he left through Ops' empty doorframe. He could feel her smile follow him out of the room before the hiss of her torch resumed.

Long shadows lurked underfoot in the Tower's corridors. The lights were dark, and the windows provided little to see by in the winter rain. A mild chill bit through the white folds of Bushido's keikogi. He frowned as he leapt gingerly over a puddle forming in the stairwell, stepping between the steady dripping from a pipe in the ceiling.

A shaft of yellow light carpeted the floor outside the stairwell door. Bushido followed the light back to its source, a small room lit by a construction lamp hung crudely from the ceiling. The lamp made the room sweltering, offering Bushido a brief respite from the cold.

Robin didn't seem to appreciate the heat as much as Bushido did. He struggled, shirtless, against a long wrench fixed to the base of a black rectangular case that took up most of the room. Sweat trickled down the contours of his straining muscles, and over his furrowed brow into his black and white domino mask. The bolt at the bottom of the tower strained back, refusing to move.

Bushido watched Robin struggle in silence for a moment. The swordsman sat on the room's only chair, taking care not to crease the tunic and cape hung across the chair's back.

Finally, Bushido said, "You are deeply troubled."

Robin collapsed against the immobile wrench. "Why is it I can never guess what you're going to say?" he groused, and wiped uselessly at the sweat on his mask. "Normal people would offer to help, or ask me how the job was going."

"A pity for your sensibilities, then, that I am extraordinary and not normal," Bushido said with an absolutely straight face. "Besides which, had you desired help, you would have requested it at once. And we both know that you do not desire help. Your ego will not allow it."

"Is that right?" Robin said, and braced himself against the wrench for another try. "And how do 'we' know that?"

Folding his hands, Bushido said, "You possess a tremendous sense of guilt. For reasons unknown to me, you feel responsibility for everything bad that occurs to those even tangentially connected to you. With every new burden and hardship you encounter, you toss it upon your shoulders, marching on with Sisyphean determination until the next new burden falls across your path."

The wrench budged a fraction of a degree. Robin doubled his efforts as he answered Bushido through clenched teeth. "You said it was ego a second ago. Now it's guilt?"

"Ah, but the two are intertwined," said Bushido, lifting his knit fingers in demonstration. "The latter stems from the former. And your feeling responsible for your friends' troubles is no strange matter. It is simple human empathy."

"…but?" grunted Robin.

Bushido leaned forward. "But you do not simply 'feel' responsible. You truly, deeply, fundamentally believe that you are responsible for everything bad that has happened to them. You believe that it is your fault. And because your ego is powerful enough to assume responsibility for wrongs you did not commit, it has also convinced you that you are the only one competent enough to entrust to correcting those wrongs. And because of this belief, you then believe that you alone can and must correct those wrongs."

Robin's grunt became a growl. He arched his back against the wrench, and said, "Being a leader means being responsible, even when you aren't there."

Lifting his eyebrow, Bushido asked, "Even when you're not the leader?"

The wrench slipped from its bolt. Robin collapsed, slamming his elbow into the black tower's casing. His snarl joined the echoing clang as his knees struck the concrete floor. He knelt there for a long minute, gasping. Bushido never even flinched.

Finally, Robin turned to meet Bushido's patient gaze. "I screwed up. I ran away. And look what's happened since then," he said, breath ragged. "Our home is a gutted mess. Our city's losing faith in us. We haven't heard from Cyborg—I mean, Cyberion—in months. And we've been struggling to keep up while we're more than a man down ever since…"

He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. Bushido couldn't bring himself to finish it either. Both teens shared a moment of silence.

Sighing, Robin regained his footing, and stooped to retrieve his tool. "I'm not saying I would have done a better job than Vic did," he said. "But I know I could have done better than 'I' did. That's my mistake. I have to fix it."

The wrench bit into the bolt again, creaking under Robin's weight. Breaking his silence, Bushido said, "So…how is the job going?"

Robin collapsed again, this time with a breathless chuckle. "Slowly and badly," he admitted, and thumped the casing. "This mainframe has eaten up my whole week, and it still isn't online. I can't reactivate the power core without the mainframe to control it, so until we do…"

"—we tarry on in these new Dark Ages," Bushido agreed. "But I confess, I still do not understand why you have labored so hard to replace everything electronic in the entire Tower. So many of the systems still functioned when under the stewardship of the Teen Tyrants."

"Yeah," scoffed Robin. "Specifically, Gizmo. And in case you didn't fight him enough, just trust me when I say that I'm not turning on so much as a toaster until every one of his fingerprints is out of this building."

Then he glared at the casing, and made the mistake of thumping it with his sore elbow. Wincing, Robin added, "Of course, it would help if I was anywhere near as good as Vic with these kinds of things. I'm a lot better at tearing computer systems apart than making them work."

Bushido nodded. "His programming is quite artful. It took the sum of my incredible skills to overcome the Tower's defenses when I broke in to kill you all."

After a moment's consideration, Robin said, "It's weird that we're friends now, Ryuko."

"Indeed," Bushido agreed. "And as your friend, might I offer you a kernel of unsolicited wisdom?" Before Robin could respond, he said, "Do not overburden yourself with a mountain of menial minutiae. I believe myself vastly overqualified to perform the installation of this… What is it?" he said, examining the case with a puzzled expression.

"Bulletproof casing for the mainframe, with a core of laser-reflective foil bracketing an insulation seal that should also keep the processors from overheating if exposed to directed temperatures up to a thousand degrees..."

Bushido's other eyebrow rose to join the first. "And that doesn't strike you as overdesigned?"

Robin's voice flattened. "Have you met us?" he said.

"Of course. How silly of me," Bushido said wryly. He took the wrench from Robin's hands.

The Teen Wonder let it go without protest, leaning back against the warm casing. His back left a sweaty imprint when he pushed away to collect his tunic and cape. "You're right, Ryuko. I've been putting too much of myself into getting this place operational. I should probably check in with our…situation downstairs."

The wry look evaporated from Bushido's sculpted features. His knuckles whitened around the wrench as he murmured, "I…would offer my services in that matter, if you would prefer."

"Believe me, nothing would make me happier," Robin admitted, and latched his cape to his collar. Its scalloped edges teased the floor as he started for the door. "But I've ignored the problem too long now. It's something I need to…"

Robin trailed off, acutely aware of Bushido's piercing stare as he fell still at the room's door. The swordsman merely nodded, and said, "Of course. I shall finish here."

For a moment more, Robin lingered in the room, staring at the door, listening to Bushido brace the wrench against the stubborn bolt. A question welled in his chest, growing until it burst from his tight lips. "Ryuko? What do you think? Would it have made any difference if I'd been here for…well, any of it?"

The wrench fell silent. Robin couldn't bring himself to turn around as he heard Bushido contemplate in silence. The sum of the previous year's events—the war of the Teen Tyrants, and the rise of the Church of Blood, and the return of Trigon—seemed to pass behind the swordsman's eyes in the space of a blink.

"I believe," Bushido said solemnly, "that a selfish man will never take responsibility for his own wrongdoings. I also believe," he added, "that a good man will always take responsibility for the wrongs of others."

A sigh whistled through Robin's nose. "I guess that's about as straight an answer as I can expect out of you. Thanks, Ryuko."

"You're welcome, Robin."

And with that, Robin left the mainframe to Bushido's struggling wrench and soft Japanese curses. Robin's mind strained to come up with new excuses and new distractions with every step, but by the time he reached the stairwell, he had concocted no good reason to avoid going downstairs.

* * *

The blanket of rain draped over the island sapped the warmth from everything it touched. The pelting cold made Robin shiver as he pushed through the tall Tower doors. He pushed his red umbrella between him and the sky, and braved the winter storm. His boots scraped upon the pavement of a new, slightly uneven walkway that extended out to the island's cliff edge.

Halfway to the cliff, the walkway split and came back together, forming a small circle in the rusty red-brown dirt. The inside of the circle was filled with a stubborn, struggling grass that had started to brown. Outside the circle, a lone headstone stood, its faint shadow casting over the back of a soaked green dog that dug into the fresh, ailing sod.

Robin stood on the far side of the circle and watched the dog dig with a focus that had become all too characteristic of him in the last few months. Thick flagstones sat next to him in a ready stack. Great, wet clumps of dirt sloughed from the end of his paws as he dug a space for the next stone. Each hole was spaced carefully, methodically. Most of what he scooped washed back into the hole faster than he could dig. But he showed no signs of slowing. He didn't even seem to notice the rain.

"All those years I nagged you about working harder finally paid off," Robin said, and shouldered his umbrella against the wind. "Now, if we could just work on your sense of timing."

The dog looked up at Robin's approach. Without a sound, or so much as a breath, it began to expand. The outline of the old basset hound expanded as if someone had pumped a tank full of air into it all at once. Black and blue fabric emerged from its skin as it rose up on its hind legs, which became booted feet. Gloves appeared over its paws, becoming fully formed hands. Its face mashed and reshaped itself into handsome features that were already puckered into a scowl.

Beast Boy sighed as he settled onto his new feet. The back of his hand left a streak of mud as he wiped his face. His short hair clung to the top of his scowl. "We have to fix this dump, right? So I'm taking care of this," he said.

"Sure," Robin agreed. "But I had kind of hoped to get some of the high priority stuff done first, like electricity or plumbing. Not all of us can turn into a dog and trot down to the beach, and that chemical camping toilet is starting to lose its charm."

"Yeah. I turn into animals, Tim," Beast Boy grunted. "Last time I checked, nature hadn't evolved the perfect plumber yet. And since I don't feel like going to school for two years, I'll keep doing this stuff, and you can fix the damn toilet."

The weak smile on Robin's face crumpled. "I appreciate that you're going metaphorical with your green thumbs, with all this yard work" he said, rubbing the back of his head, "but don't you think this would be easier if you did it when it wasn't—"

"There's too much to do to wait for the stupid weather," Beast Boy grumbled, and knelt. "After I get the path finished and the flowers in, I have to find the kind of vines that grow on statues. Then I have to shop around for a statue-carving guy."

Robin blinked. "Statue? Gar, I'm seriously starting to—"

"Well, don't," Beast Boy snapped. His fist struck the red mud where he had been digging. Already, the rain had begun to fill the hole with slurry. "She told me to move on, so I'm moving on."

"Gar—"

"She deserves better than this!"

Beast Boy's howl echoed through the rain. It ran across the bay, fading over choppy waters just beyond the island's cliffs. He glared at Robin, his face hard. White fangs glistened below curled lips. His fists trembled.

Beneath his pattering umbrella, Robin met the snarl with a blank mask. He remained perfectly still, as though he were staring down a rampaging animal. His breath left him in slow, faint wisps of steam.

Then he began to snicker.

It was a soft sound at first. The laughter slithered out of his chest, little more than a whistling in his nose. Before long it grew loud enough to prick Beast Boy's ears. The 'R' insignia on Robin's chest began to dance as the Teen Wonder succumbed to muted amusement.

The snarl in Beast Boy's lips collapsed into a flat line. A laugh similar to Robin's jetted once from Beast Boy's nose. "I guess that was a little over the top," he admitted.

The admission only made Robin laugh harder. "It would have been over the top for a big budget movie," he chortled. "You were more like something out of Shakespeare."

Beast Boy held out his hand as if noticing the rain for the first time. His laughter grew. "Oh my God. It's even raining! Dramatically! You have got to be kidding me."

"This…" Robin gasped, and rested a hand on Beast Boy's shoulder. "I think this is the part where you swear Raven's killers won't get away with it. That you'll hunt them to the ends of the earth. Then you turn in your badge and gun."

Beast Boy doubled over, laughing until he cried. "I can't!" he exclaimed between guffaws. "Raven already killed one of them. Blew a hole in him the size of the old CUTTER. And the other guy is me!"

He fell backwards, collapsing next to the headstone inside the circle. Clutching his stomach, he leaned back against the black marble, pressing his cheek to the cool stone and laughing until he couldn't breathe anymore. The brown grass underneath him crinkled soggily as he rolled to sit with his back to the name carved into the stone.

Robin sat next to him, throwing his cape to one side. He angled his umbrella to shield them both while they pushed through last of their laughter.

"You know," Robin said, "if you're that hot for revenge against yourself, you're on the right track. Doing yard work in this weather is a one-way ticket to pneumonia."

Coughing his last laugh, Beast Boy said, "Maybe you could use your super-secret Bat Weather-inator to zap away the clouds."

With a lopsided smile, Robin drew a folded plastic sheet from one of his belt pouches. He shook out the sheet, revealing it to be a thin red poncho that bore his insignia on its breast. "Must've left that one in my other belt," he said, and passed the poncho to Beast Boy.

Beast Boy snorted, and worked himself into the garment. He pushed his sodden hair out of his eyes and back into the hood. "I'm not looking for any monia, new or old, Tim. And I'm…sorry."

"If you're going to apologize to anybody," Robin said, "apologize to yourself. You're blaming yourself for something you couldn't have been responsible for."

The hood tilted forward, hiding Beast Boy's expression. He was silent for a moment. Then he murmured, "Yeah. Sure."

Robin laced his fingers together, his thumbs fidgeting with the return of uncomfortable memories. He blew a long breath of steam into the cold rain, and said, "I know what you're going through. Remember? When I went crazy playing host to that alien symbiote, I put Koriand'r in an eight month coma."

"Except Kory came back," Beast Boy murmured.

Looking to the overcast sky, Robin wished with all of his might that he would see a green mote of light piercing the clouds. The gesture wasn't lost on Beast Boy. He and the other Titans had seen Robin searching the skies each time he stepped outside for the four months since Starfire's departure. For a short instant, Beast Boy stepped out of the present and back to happier times. Remembering Starfire's smile, her laughter and energy, made him miss his friend that much more. Beast Boy couldn't imagine how Robin could feel, going so long without seeing the one he loved.

And then, as he stepped back into himself, Beast Boy didn't have to imagine anymore.

"She'll come back," Beast Boy added softly. Clearing his throat, he continued, "And we'll have this place looking great when she gets here. Working toilets and everything."

Smiling wanly, Robin nodded. "But no statues. Okay?"

"Dumb idea anyway. I don't think Raven even liked mirrors that much. Seeing a big stone 'her' would have just freaked her out," Beast Boy said. "I just…like I said, I can't fix a toilet, or reprogram a Beowulf cluster, whatever the hell that is. All this landscaping is just a good way of keeping busy—"

Both Titans' communicators sang a high-pitched series of notes. Robin drew his and flipped open the yellow device. Its emitter projected a small holographic display. A blinking indicator on a city map gave Robin a grim smile.

"Gar," Robin said, and shut the communicator, "I don't think keeping busy is something either of us will have to worry about for a long time. Let's grab Ryuko and Allie and move." He rose in one smooth motion.

Beast Boy pushed himself off the tombstone, half-jogging to keep up with Robin's determined gait. "It's been a while. Guess things weren't gonna stay quiet forever." He looked up at the grizzled architecture of the Tower, and felt the cold seep into his stomach. "Think we can still bring the noise? We're not exactly firing on all cylinders these days."

The doors slid aside with some generous effort from the two of them. Robin led the way into the darkened Tower. His eyes caught the faint light, glinting in the shadows.

"It doesn't matter. We're the Titans. When the call goes out, we save the day," said Robin.

"Good enough for me," Beast Boy grunted.

* * *

Smoke cut the sky in a long, twisting black pillar. Even from high above, the flames were evident. They licked from the windows and roof of the glass tower. The yellowed tips of the fire stretched high enough to engulf another story above the building's roof, pouring out of windows and charred, blackened holes. Below, the shorter surrounding buildings muffled the wail of emergency sirens from the street.

Tek hurtled toward the smoke, pressing against the wind and the rain. Her armor propelled her on white glowing thrusters unfurled from her shoulders and feet, defying gravity with an alien whine. The angular visor of her helmet pierced the haze.

"Holy crap," Tek swore. "Liep Heights looks like a freaking torch!"

Robin hung in her armor's hands, pointedly aware of the palms the size of manhole covers pressing into his sides. He squinted through the smoke as he drew his communicator to his face. "We need to—whoa!" he cried out, whipping in Tek's grasp as a gust of wind threw them to one side.

"Sorry!" Tek shouted. "We've got a wicked crosswind up here. Also, I kinda suck at flying."

Bushido's voice blared calmly from the communicator. "_You should have called dibs on the pterodactyl._"

A green, scaly shape passed across Robin's view of the fire. Beast Boy rode the high winds with a natural grace. Bushido hung carefully from the dinosaur's talons. The shapeshifter's chosen form knew where and how to grasp the air currents by pure instinct. A barking screech, not wholly unlike laughter, rolled from the pterodactyl's throat.

Annoyance twitched in Robin's mask as he highlighted _Fix Alien Spaceship Transport_ on his mental to-do list. Their repurposed Gordanian ship, the Icarus, had been out of commission since before he had returned to the team. Cyberion had been the one to originally refit the alien technology, and so far Robin had been unable to make sense of it, let alone repair it.

Not for the first time that day, the thought of the Titans' absent teammate arose with a pang. Since his happy accident, Victor Stone had gone from being trapped in a body of steel and flesh to inhabiting a collective of self-replicating machines too small to comprehend. Now Cyberion, he had become a living singularity capable of taking any shape he could imagine. That included an intact body of flesh and bone.

Robin couldn't begrudge Cyberion for leaving to deal with the changes. The transition into his new body had been a tough one. But the Titans sorely missed his technical expertise. And Robin missed his friend.

But worst of it all was that remembering Cyberion's absence just reminded Robin of the gaping void in his life where Starfire had been.

_She'll be back,_ Robin told himself. _It's only been three…no, four months. Space is big. It'll take time to get anywhere. She could be on her way back now. She will come back._

With a slight shake of his head, Robin ended his pause. "Focus," he said. "We have to focus."

Thanks to their truncated numbers and their two fliers, the Titans had been able to respond almost as fast as the Jump City Fire Department. Robin knew JCFD procedures would divide their numbers. The firefighters would search floor by floor for slow evacuees and the injured. With a building as large as Liep Heights, only a fraction of the firefighters would be spared to combat the blaze directly until they were sure the rest of the building was evacuated, and even then they would have to climb nearly forty stories in full equipment to reach it.

"We'll hit this right at the top," Robin said into his communicator. "First priority's clearing civilians. Otherwise, we put out the fire where we can."

"_Only the top two floors appear to be ablaze,_" Bushido observed.

Robin's gaze swept the flames guttering from the sides of the building. "Beast Boy, Bushido, you two clear the lower floor. Watch for support beams or other vulnerable points. And watch for people trapped underneath debris."

The green pterodactyl dove as Bushido answered for them both. "_At once,_" he said.

"What about us?" Tek bellowed in Robin's ear.

Touching his utility belt, Robin said, "Find a clear window on the top floor."

"Aye-aye, Cap'n!" she answered.

They lurched downward in a wide sweep across the circumference of the inferno. Heat made the building shimmer, making it difficult to see any real detail through the veil of the winter rain.

As the fires drew near, Tek's clumsy flight slowed. "Um, I know I'm fireproof," she said. "But what about you?"

Sweat began to pool underneath Robin's body armor. His suit wouldn't burn, but it also wouldn't protect him from the raw heat of the fire. He unfolded a collapsible breath mask from a pouch on his belt and drew the filter over his mouth and nose. The microphone built into it linked automatically to his communicator. "I'll be okay. Just don't plan on overstaying our welcome."

This time Tek's voice filtered through the communicator. "_Right. In and out. No chitchat,_" she said.

Less than halfway around the building, Tek found a set of windows that were still dark and intact. She carried Robin into them at reckless speed, her armor cutting through the smoke and rain like a gleaming ivory bullet. At the last second, she wrapped herself around Robin and flipped, crushing the glass with the flat plates of her back. Her momentum carried her through a large, posh, leather living room furniture set, a flatscreen TV, a wall, and most of the kitchen beyond.

When she'd finally stopped, Tek unfurled, dropping Robin before she tore herself free from the crumpled remains of a countertop. The sink she'd landed in was a twisted wreck. It gushed water at her as she lurched away. "Oh, crap! Did I squish anybody?" she cried.

Robin rapped his fist against her back to stop her. "You're good. But be more careful."

She nodded, and then followed him through the flinders of the living room. They appeared to be in one of the building's penthouse apartments. It had rich furnishings and thick burgundy carpets, and splattery pictures on the wall that Tek knew must have been expensive art because they made no sense to her. Aside from her ballistic entrance, the apartment remained untouched. The tenants were nowhere to be found.

Robin stopped at the front door and touched the molded wood. Heat pressed back through his glove. Gathering up his cape, he stepped aside, and said to Tek, "Open it. But be ready for the backdr—"

Tek shoved the door, breaking it in half with the gesture. Then she shrieked and backpedaled at the rush of flames that poured in through the empty frame. She tripped and landed hard, cracking the hardwood floor. Metal rang as she slapped at the fire clinging to her.

The flames poured over Robin's cape. He wrapped the protective cloak over his face, losing a few hairs to the fire before it settled onto the floor and began its work of consuming the apartment. "—draft," he finished lamely through his mask.

"Well, thanks for warning me," Tek snapped, clamoring to her feet. She saw the encroaching fire, and watched Robin backing away from the overflowing door. "Hang on. If I concentrate…"

Lifting her arms, Tek turned her open hands to the fire. Small apertures opened in her armored palms, unveiling an eerie blue light that splayed into the glow of the flames. In seconds, that same blue light coalesced into a broad, pliable force field in front of Tek.

Gesturing, Tek flipped the glowing pane onto the floor, tamping the flames. The wood hissed, jets of steam and smoke billowing out from the edges of the pane. When she lifted her force field, it left a perfect rectangle of blackened, charred, extinguished floor. She began to repeat the process, lifting the field and pressing it to the floor and the walls.

After nearly a minute of work, she cleared a path back to the doorway. Both Titans could see into the hallway now. Tek's heart sank as she watched the inferno raging across every surface of the long hall, from the elevators at one end to the floor to ceiling window at the other end.

Tek let her force field dissipate behind them. "This place will be ashes by the time I finish," she said.

Robin didn't reply. He produced a disc with a blue rim from his belt and cocked it in his palm. With a quick snap, he flung the disc several doors down the blazing hallway, and then ducked back, shielding is face behind his cape once more. Tek, protected, leaned into the blaze and followed the disc until it burst with a sharp crack. A white flash rushed at her, making her reel backwards. As she smashed through the doorframe and crushed the drywall behind it, she saw a pattern of frost crackle briefly across her visor before the heat made it evaporate. When her vision returned, she saw a long portion of the hallway extinguished through a haze of smoke and steam.

"Or you could just use an ice bomb," she said dryly, picking herself out of the wall.

Robin stalked into the hallway. Even extinguished, the heat was intense. Sweat continued to gather underneath his uniform. He tried not to think of the waning supply of ice discs in his belt. With so much work left in Titans Tower, he hadn't had time to properly replenish his inventory.

"You take the left," he said, gesturing to the doors of one side of the hallway. "I'll take the right. And watch for more—"

"—backdrafts. Got it," Tek said.

They moved swiftly now, checking and breaking down doors to find the apartments within engulfed in flames. Robin exhausted his meager supply of ice discs checking for survivors. He didn't find anyone trapped behind the fire. Nor did he find any victims. But he did begin to notice something that brought a scowl to his face.

By her third apartment, Tek had taught herself to twist her force field into a cylinder, creating a roller that crushed flames long enough for her to check each room. "Nobody in this one either," she said, leaving the next to last apartment on her side. "Maybe everybody got out before the fire got too bad?"

The telltale signs already weighed heavily on Robin. This fire had erupted without warning, and was localized at the very top of one of the tallest buildings in Jump City. There was no clear point of origin for the flames. Or rather, there had been nearly a dozen such points. In one room, Robin had risked a brief sniff without his mask, and had been rewarded with a lungful of stinking propellant.

The fire was no accident. That much was obvious. But the motive behind it remained a mystery that would have to wait until they'd finished clearing the floor and found Beast Boy and Bushido again.

"Let's make sure," Robin said to Tek. He positioned himself in front of his final door and drew the last blue disc from his belt. "Once we're done up here, we—"

As Robin drew his foot back to kick in the door, it burst off its frame and barreled into him. The door smashed Robin into Tek's back, crushing him between wood and metal. His vision whited out with pain as he fell to one side, losing his breath as the door clatter on top of him.

"Huh?" Tek turned at the light knock on her back. She saw Robin lurching back to his feet from under a door. Her visor snapped up to the empty doorway, and she gasped.

A set of full body armor filled the doorway, framed from behind by flames that reached the ceiling. The armor was black with straps of gray binding it to a lanky frame. The helmet was red and blue, its colors split down the middle, covering its owner face save for half of a furious, dark glare.

"It's you…" Tek whispered in shock. She took one faltering step backwards, shaking at the rush of memories brought back by the sight of the armor. Then she took in the armor's full shape, and felt confusion blossom in her fear. "Wait. No, it's not. You're not R—"

A silver disc struck Tek's chest, drawn and thrown by the armored figure faster than Tek could see. The world around Tek became a percussive nightmare as she felt the disc explode, pounding hard enough for her to feel it even inside her suit. Tek disappeared into the apartment behind her, vanishing behind a curtain of flames and shattered drywall.

Robin flinched at the explosion. He focused on collecting his senses, and then doubled over as a boot filled his stomach. A black gauntlet crossed his mouth hard, knocking him into the wall. Blood filled his mouth, and then sprayed from his lips as the gauntlet returned, hammering his solar plexus.

Falling to his knees, Robin watched the two-toned figure loom over him. Twin sabers filled the figure's hands. The single eye watching from behind the helmet narrowed. It was the color of ice, and it burned with hate.

The sabers rose to cut Robin's head from his neck. With arms of lead, Robin grasped at his belt. His thumb found a hidden catch on the back of the buckle, opening a series of false bottoms in the pouches. Small black capsules spilled around him as he mashed his eyes shut.

The pellets ignited with magnesium charges. For a single instant, the hallway became filled with dozens of tiny suns, each impossibly bright. Robin heard a cry from above him and felt the sabers clatter next to him. He drew a labored breath through his filter and then sprang up, shoving hard against his attacker's armored harness.

When the flares stopped pressing at his eyelids, he risked a look, and saw his attacker staggering. Robin drew his communicator, and he called, "Titans!"

A shrill snarl made him turn, so he caught the attacker's full body tackle on the ribs. They bowled into the window at the end of the hall. The window, a full wall of glass overlooking the street, had been so warped by the heat of the fire that it shattered. Both opponents flew into the open air through a hail of glass knives and disappeared beneath the edge of the window.

Tek exploded through the apartment doorway, spraying flaming debris from her shoulders as she caught herself against the opposite wall. She saw the empty hallway, and the jagged remains of the window. A sick feeling welled up in her throat as she rushed to the end of the hall. "Robin? Robin!" she cried.

She looked out through the broken window. Below, she saw fire trucks parked at the base of the building. A whole host of lights flashed from the emergency vehicles circling the block. But there was no sign of Robin or their attacker.

"_Hello? Guys?_" Beast Boy's voice spoke through her helmet. The crackle of flames was clear through the communicator's link. "_I thought I heard Robin on this thing. Is everything okay?_"

"It's Robin! He's gone! We have to find him," Tek cried.

"_Wait, what?_"

"We're under attack," Tek insisted. "It was Ravager!"

"_What!_"

"Well…sort of," she added.

* * *

Robin was no stranger to falling off of buildings. Too many costumed battles took place at unsafe altitudes for Batman to tolerate a sidekick with vertigo. After countless drills by his mentor and his acrobatic predecessor, that first lurching sensation in his stomach sent Robin reaching for his grappling launcher.

His attacker, a would-be Ravager, clung to him as they plummeted through the glass. Robin knew this Ravager couldn't be the real deal. He had watched Ravager, Grant Wilson, die at the hands of Trigon months ago. Like Grant, this knockoff sought to unsettle the Titans with a familiar theme, but all it did was raise Robin's hackles.

A smooth, trained motion drew the launcher from Robin's belt and aimed it across the street. Robin sent the red and black hook through an office window six stories below him. The line retracted as he fell past the hook, drawing taut and pulling him and his stowaway in an arc.

Robin grunted at the combined weight. He felt the faux-Ravager shift grips, wrapping his legs around Robin's waist. As they swung halfway between skyscrapers, Robin saw a knife flash overhead. The screaming tension left Robin's arms as Ravager cut the line.

Instantly, Robin reached for his backup launcher. Then he saw his assailant with a launcher of his own. The launcher kicked in Ravager's hands and then jerked them both sideways. Their new arc carried them down the street instead of across it, dragging them toward a building corner several buildings down.

In one smooth motion, Robin drew a curved knife from his boot. The wing patterned blade sliced through Ravager's line, sending them tumbling through the air once more. Lights from the emergency vehicles swirled into a snarl of tracers until Robin shot his backup launcher, resuming control of their fall mere stories above the ground.

Hot pain grabbed Robin's shoulder as he guided their weighty pairing toward an empty alleyway, their only option for a safe landing after two false starts. The corner of a building caught the line, whipping them both into the alley, where they flew apart. Robin let go of the launcher and tumbled. He caught a rough patch of asphalt that tore at his elbow before rising back to his feet.

Several yards away, Ravager rose as well. The copycat reached over his shoulders and snatched a pair of cutlasses from their sheathes. Brandishing the new weapons, he began to advance upon Robin again.

Then Robin looked again. Without the smoke or the relentless threat of falling to distract him, he took in this new Ravager, and saw for the first time the curve of hips and breasts that shaped the armor. This _he_ was a _she_.

"That's different," Robin drawled, his face growing stony as the girl-Ravager advanced. "So are you a crazy internet fan, or just a rookie looking for a quick reputation? Because let me tell you…"

Ravager crouched, and then launched herself from the ground on all fours. With a tinny snarl, she ripped the cutlasses through the air. Their edges cut the tips of Robin's short hair as he ducked backward.

Skidding on his boots, Robin filled his hand. "Not much for banter—" he started to say.

She kicked his hand as it left his belt. A white-rimmed disc flew from his grasp and struck the building side. It burst into light and sound, filling Robin's senses with pain. He staggered to his knees and tried to clear his eyes of the flash-bang's effect. Then a jarring kick caught his teeth, throwing him backwards.

As he lay on his back, swimming in three different flavors of pain, Robin felt Ravager's determined footsteps echoing through the ground beneath him. He staggered back to his knees, and then froze as the tip of a sword came to rest at his throat. His vision cleared, and he saw Ravager above him holding the sword, motionless as a statue, watching him.

"You're good," he wheezed. "Really good. And ruthless. Slade would have loved you."

The comment elicited a creaking from Ravager's gauntlets. Her grasp clenched around the cutlass's grip, twisting the blade a fraction of an inch.

Whatever her hesitation, Robin saw it was his only chance. He slapped at the flat of the cutlass and threw himself backwards. Ravager reacted too slow, thrusting the sword after him. The tip missed its mark and dug into his collar where his cape joined the tunic. The titanium weave in the fabric stopped most of the blade, leaving the rest of it to bite into soft flesh above Robin's collarbone.

Barking in pain, Robin kipped onto his hands and lashed out with his feet, landing both heels in Ravager's helmet. The kick struck above the lone eyehole, landing hard enough to pinch the metal gap shut. Ravager tilted backwards and struck the ground, clawing at her blind eye.

"Too bad you seem to have one or two of his weaknesses, too," Robin said. "Now do us both a favor and give up."

Grunting, Ravager grasped her helmet and wrenched it free of her head. A wave of platinum hair cascaded from the broken seal. She tossed aside the useless helmet and glared balefully at Robin with her one eye. A coal black patch covered the left half of her scowl.

The bravado drained from Robin's body. "Rose? Rose Wilson?" he said, and gaped. "The last time I saw you, you were leaving the rest of Tyrants East to rot in jail. And you had twice as many eyes. What happened to you?"

Rose barreled at Robin, screaming in a frenzied rage. Her cutlasses drew a thin line of blood across his cheek as he dodged. He produced birdarangs and caught her next swings, kicking sparks from the curved red blades.

Rose attacked with little care for the kicks and slashes that Robin landed. His blows fell unfelt against her heavy armored harness. The cuts he put in her arms oozed blood, spattering him as she doubled her efforts to kill him. She left deep furrows in his tunic that were a hair's breadth from being lethal.

Every shallow cut cost Robin a little more speed. His body dragged at the sensation of pain crisscrossing his arms and legs. He could ignore most of it, but the blood loss would soon take its toll. His breathing became ragged, and his head began to swim. The rain pattered mercilessly, washing blood over his mask, and sapping the heat from his limbs.

Then, through the ringing in his ears, Robin heard a familiar high-pitched whine of otherworldly technology and the rhythmic beating of leather wings against the air. As he caught Rose's cutlasses against his birdarangs, he met her snarl with a grin.

"You've come a long way from the daddy's girl I fought in Steel City," said Robin. His arms trembled against her descending blades. "But me? I don't change much. I'm still a snappy dresser. Still a lousy dancer."

Two tons of armored Tek landed behind Rose. With an almost casual gesture, Tek backhanded her, tossing Rose down the alley. Tek's other arm sprouted a double-barreled cannon from the wrist, which she swept to cover the would-be Ravager.

Beast Boy landed in front of Robin, trading his pterodactyl shape for that of a gorilla. Bushido remained atop Beast Boy's shoulders through the change, maintaining perfect balance, his katana drawn and poised.

Robin shambled onto his feet. "And I still have a great team," he said.

Rose crouched, snarling. She looked nothing so much like a stymied predator as she backed away, turned, and sprinted from the alley into the street.

Reclaiming his human shape, Beast Boy watched her go. "Damn, she's fast. Is Central City missing a speedster?"

"Inquisition later," Bushido said, already running past him. "Acquisition now."

Tek hesitated, letting Beast Boy and Bushido run ahead. She looked back at Robin, and said, "Was that who I thought it was? What happened to her? And why is she doing this?"

"Go find out," Robin told her.

She started to leave, and then stopped again. "What about you?" she asked.

"I'm fine. Stop Rose. Go!" he barked, and motioned sharply.

His sharp voice spurred her after the other two Titans. As soon as she left, Robin slumped against the wall. His adrenaline rush gave way to a wave of dull pain. The rain pattered against him, cold and miserable, seeping into every crevice and cut he had and making them worse. He spat red, and then sighed, watching the blood and saliva ripple into the thick puddle under him.

"Rose Wilson," he said to himself, and drew his communicator. "What's her angle this time?"

As he thumbed through the device's options to contact Jump City's police, the alley coughed with the muffled report of a gun. The communicator in Robin's hand shattered into a puff of debris.

Robin flipped to one side, his scalloped cape a swirl of motion. He landed with birdarangs poised to strike. His eyes narrowed on the flicker of motion at the mouth of the alleyway. There he saw a short man in a long coat. The pistol in the man's grasp was trained on the spot where Robin had been, its suppressor stretching from the end of the barrel. The collar of the man's jacket was raised against the rain, partially obscuring his curious expression. White and gray peppered his dark hair.

"Hello," the man said pleasantly. "Please drop your weapons and remove your belt."

In his four years of being a Titan, Robin had faced every manner of magic and technology that could be harnessed for violent ends. To be threatened by something as mundane as a pistol felt like a novelty. Nonetheless, he kept his guard up and his muscles tensed.

"I don't think so," Robin said in an equally pleasant tone. "And you are?"

The man gave a tiny smile. His gun remained trained to one side of Robin. "I have carried a dozen names across nearly twice as many centuries. I have seen great men wither and whole nations shatter. I have led the mightiest armies this world has known," he said, speaking as though he were discussing the weather. Then he shrugged, and added, "These days, I am called Immortus. General Immortus, actually. It's a rather dramatic moniker, I'll admit. But then, these are dramatic times we live in."

"Immortus," Robin echoed. His mind raced for any information he could recall on this alarmingly plain threat. Nothing came to him. "Charmed. And what do you want?"

Immortus chilled Robin to the core with five simple words: "I want you to run."

Then Robin heard a long, low growl begin behind him.

* * *

Horns shrieked as Rose barreled into traffic. She darted between cars, jumping through the spray of each near miss. The splash of tires and flash of taillights made her all but impossible to follow.

But Bushido had made a career of doing the all but impossible. Second behind her, he jumped across hoods and past bumpers, ignoring the outraged scream of horns. The rain and wind dragged against his keikogi, plastering it to his body and pulling at it like a sodden leaf in a gale. He ignored it all and followed the trail of stark white hair that darted ahead of him in traffic.

Rose pounded against the hood of a screeching van that braked to avoid killing her. Her body left a divot as she bounced clear, stumbling through puddles to reach the opposite sidewalk. Before the van's driver could catch a second breath, Bushido leapt across the ruined hood.

Even in the heat of the chase, Bushido's heartbeat barely registered the effort. His mind and body were fully in the pursuit, but his heart was not. His heart remained in the sheath at his hip and the immense power contained within. Generations of wielders had held his sword. They had dedicated their very souls to it, lending the blade the wisdom and strength of countless warriors. And Bushido wanted nothing more than to make them proud.

At the outset, Bushido's only motive for becoming a Titan had been to prove himself worthy of the blade. Were he to say the same now, he knew it would be a lie. Being a Titan meant something to him. But being a part of the sword's legacy meant more.

Rose's single eye flashed at him as she caught herself against a storefront window. The puddled water at her feet sprayed as she swung around to face him. Her cutlasses flashed at Bushido. The attack was so brutal, so inhumanly fast, that Bushido only had time to raise his sheath and draw half his sword before the weapons clashed.

Bushido grasped the hilt and sheath, fighting against the blade that hovered inches from his nose. Steel clattered against steel, the perfect edge of his katana pitting the cutlass. Sweat and rain swept Bushido's hair into his eyes, but he did not blink.

Not until he heard his ancestors.

The chorus came without warning. It filled Bushido, resonating in his bones. It ran through him like lightning. The shock of it nearly killed Bushido as he almost lost control of his sword.

There were no words to the clamoring voice. The chorus spoke without words, without voice, without sound. But it spoke to him, telling him something he had only heard once before in his life.

His eyes went wide He tried to speak, but his lips moved soundlessly. The only sounds came from the hiss of blades and the bubbling growl in Rose's throat.

Tek batted Rose aside from behind. Her armored knuckles spanned the width of Rose's back, easily knocking her to the ground. Before Rose could find her senses again, a green gorilla backhanded her. Rose bounced once and then crumpled against the red brick of the building beside them. She sprawled limply, her chest rising with shallow breath.

"Ryuko! Are you okay?" Tek cried.

The swordsman blinked hard. It took him three tries to fix the sheath back at his waist. "I…yes," he said shakily.

A green hummingbird darted between raindrops to examine him. It buzzed, flitting around his head. Then, evidently satisfied, it landed on Tek's shoulder and became Beast Boy once again. He turned his attention to the unconscious new Ravager at their feet. "Rose Wilson," he said, shaking his head. "Starting fires and tackling people out of windows?"

"It doesn't make sense," Tek insisted. "It's like she was waiting for us. Do you think this is revenge for that mess in the Doldrums last year?"

Beast Boy drew his communicator. "Let's leave that question for our very own detective. Maybe he can make some sense out of this." Thumbing the device to life, he called, "Robin? Hey, we've got your dance partner."

There was no answer. Tek exchanged an alarmed look with Beast Boy before touching the side of her helmet. "Robin?" she called. "Robin, come in. We have Rose. Where are you?"

They received the same silence in reply.

The blank tracking map on Beast Boy's communicator made him curse. "He's not even transmitting anymore," he said. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! We should never have left him alone."

Tek lifted Rose easily, and then pushed herself into the air as Beast Boy became a sparrow. "It's only been a few minutes," she said. "He's probably still okay. Right?"

The sparrow darted from her shoulder in answer, pushing through the rain to retrace their steps. Tek began to follow him on glowing thrusters, but then stopped short when she saw Bushido motionless on the sidewalk.

"Ry? Ryuko!" she called.

Her voice shook Bushido from his stupor. His eyes focused and found her visor. "Yes. I will follow on foot," he replied.

But as he began to drift behind the two fliers, his mind wandered away from Robin's potential fate, falling back into the sheath at his hip.

* * *

Fire rushed in and out of Robin's lungs. He scrambled around the corner, nearly bowling over a group of business casuals out for lunch. Without his communicator, he could only guess at the direction of the rest of his team. He looked across the skyline for plumes of fire and smoke, but the gray drizzle gave him nothing.

"The one time you guys avoid major property damage…" he wheezed.

As he grumbled and panted, his mind continued to race. A simple emergency response had turned into so many different kinds of intrigue and danger. He tried to reason why Immortus would pursue him, or what the older man even wanted from him, or why Rose Wilson had returned. Was she working with Immortus? To what end?

Robin gnashed his teeth at the wall of questions facing him. He knew nothing about Immortus or this new, more dangerous Rose. The restoration of the Tower had taken all of his focus, and now it was costing him. He had let a totally unknown threat get the drop on him. He could practically hear Batman's disapproving growl ringing in his ears.

Then he spied a police cruiser parked outside of a convenience store a block away. Its lights were dark and its engine was idling. A still silhouette filled the passenger seat. As Robin staggered onward, the store's entrance jingled, and a uniformed officer walked toward the car with two steaming cups of coffee.

"Hey!" Robin shouted. "Officer!"

The policeman jumped at the sight of a bleeding caped teenager lurching toward him. The coffee tumbled free of his hands as he tore open his cruiser door and reached inside for the radio.

As the first inkling of relief teased Robin's thoughts, he saw a glinting shape falling above the street. He had half a second to draw breath before the shape crashed into the roof of the cruiser. Four clawed metal feet crushed the car's roof, trapping both officers inside the crumpled vehicle.

Slowly, the shape unfurled to stand fully atop the wreck of a car. It was shaped like a dog, if a dog were made from stainless steel bent into cruel, sharp edges. Its single, sweeping eye found Robin in an instant. Its jaw opened to snarl, revealing rows of jagged teeth that looked closer to a saw blade than anything that belonged in a mouth.

Then it pounced onto the sidewalk and ran at Robin with unbelievable speed. It roared, its mechanical voice loud enough to shake Robin to his very bones.

In a moment of primal fear, Robin forgot his training. He forgot his tactics and his tools. He dove into the nearest opening, a filthy alley opening behind the convenience store.

And he ran.

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	3. Limits: Criminals

**Teen Titans**

**Absolution**

* * *

**Limits**: _Criminals  
_

The throbbing black haze gave way to a single light bulb swinging overhead.

Rose groaned and leaned forward, letting her chin drop to her chest. There wasn't a square inch of her that didn't hurt. But when she tried to rub her face, her hands refused to move. She felt something cold clamped around her wrists and heard a metallic _clank_ coming from the chair beneath her.

Sifting through the pain in her head, Rose tried to remember exactly what she had been doing before she blacked out. She had been looking for her father. Or at least, she thought she had. Vague memories of a sporting goods store, rope and pitons, climbing chalk, electric lanterns, and other equipment flashed in her head. She remembered the what of it all, but had trouble focusing on the why of it all.

The smell of cleanser filled her nose. As her vision adjusted to the light, she saw shelves packed with spray bottles and buckets lining the tight walls around her. An old mop stood guard over her in the corner next to the door, its spongy head watching her dispassionately.

She craned her neck, examining the door. "Um, hello? Where the hell am I?" she called. The sound of her own voice sent spikes of pain into her temples. Wincing, she added, "If this is some kind of sex thing, you're way off base on my kink."

The door clattered open, slamming her with a wall of blinding light. She hissed and squinted at the black shape that filled the doorway.

"You're probably wondering why we brought you here," the silhouette said.

She groaned. "Are you kidding me with that line? You sound like a B-movie." She gagged on her next breath, and then added, "What the hell smells like cheap cologne and wet dog?"

As the figure crossed his arms, Rose adjusted again to the light. She watched Beast Boy's angry expression take shape as his outline became clear. "How about you answer a few questions for me first," he said, his tone clearly informing Rose that he wasn't making a request.

Rose laughed, and instantly regretted it as another spike of pain shot through her skull. "I'm not answering dick until I get a bottle of aspirin and some beer to wash it down," she said. She glanced back down at the handcuffs holding her to the folding metal chair. "Why did you Titan pukes kidnap me anyway?"

"I'm asking the questions here!" Beast Boy snapped. "And we didn't kidnap you…exactly. We're detaining you in this holding cell until you—"

"Will you puh-lease cut the tough guy routine?" Rose said, and winced at the noise. "I think it's literally killing me. Christ, I need a smoke. Do me a favor and check my pock…"

When Rose looked down to the jacket pocket where her cigarettes lived, she found instead a harness of strange black armor strapped to her chest. As she shifted, she felt ceramic plates in her leggings and saw steel-toed combat boots on her feet.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed. "Did…did you little shitheads dress me up like Grant while I was unconscious? I swear to God, this better not be some kind of weird rape kink, or I will—"

"Shut up!" Beast Boy shouted, silencing her with the headache that followed the volume of his voice. "No one here is going to rape you. God!"

"Ow! Balls!" Rose groaned, twisting her head to one side. "Okay, already. But if you walk around in spandex all day and tie women to chairs, don't get snippy when someone gets the wrong idea."

"Now who do you work for? What did you do with Robin?" demanded Beast Boy.

Waves of platinum hair rippled behind her as she shook the pained haze from her head. "Robin?" she echoed.

He braced himself against the doorframe and leaned in, putting his face inches from hers. "Robin," he said again. "Skinny guy with the mask and the kung fu grip. Where. Is. He."

Rose gritted her teeth, summoning a rush of adrenal defiance. "Go play in traffic, dog boy. I don't know shit about your little friend, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. I wake up who-knows-where, wearing some dead asshole's clothes, locked to a chair, feeling like shit, and you want to play Twenty Questions? How about I tell you to eat my ass twenty times? Because we're done here. Now let me go already!"

He watched her with all of his senses. She stank of sweat, blood, and grime. Her eye never wavered. Her heartbeat was fast but steady. Beast Boy's eyes narrowed as he realized that she was telling the truth, or at least whatever truth she knew.

More calmly this time, he asked, "What do you remember?"

"About what? What happened before I woke up in the Buffalo Bill Hotel?" As Rose tried to remember, her whole head came ablaze with terrible pain. She winced, clutching her eyes shut against the agony. As she did, she felt a soft patch of fabric pressing at her left cheek and brow.

She froze. Staying perfectly still, Rose looked around the tiny room with her eyes. The pounding headache had kept her from realizing that she couldn't see nearly as much of it as she should have. As her eyes crossed, she only saw one side of her nose. Her left eye was completely dark.

And then she remembered.

"Son of a bitch…" she whispered.

Beast Boy perked. "What?"

It was Beast Boy's turn to wince as Rose exploded, "SON OF A BITCH!" She threw herself against her restraints so hard that she nearly toppled her chair. Her hair cascaded in silver waves, filling the air above her. Thrashing and howling, she sobbed, "Slade!" over and over.

Beast Boy lunged forward, grabbing her shoulders. Only his leverage, and the fact that he was nearly half a foot taller than her, allowed him to push all four legs of her chair back onto the floor. Even then, he couldn't believe how strong she was. "Whoa, whoa!" he cried. "What do you remember?"

"Slade!" she howled. Tears glistened on her cheeks, coming from her remaining eye and from underneath the black eye patch. "I can't believe he…he took my eye! He took my freaking eye! I spent so long looking for him. I found him, and he…with a syringe, and…and he…"

Ice trickled through Beast Boy's veins as her voice crumbled. He hadn't thought of Slade Wilson in a long time, and was in no hurry to start again. That dangerous psychopath had met his end in his own invasion courtesy of Red Robin. The Titan's super-powered alter-ego had finished Slade personally and left him to die underground.

Except…

Except they had never found the body.

"It's not possible. Slade's dead," Beast Boy said. He wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure her or himself.

Her sobs had collapsed into panting breaths that hissed between her teeth. "He's gonna be," Rose promised him in a quavering voice. "That asshole took my eye, and I'm gonna repay the favor."

The look of absolute hatred on her face made Beast Boy's stomach churn. Still holding her by the shoulders, he said, "Let's focus on Robin. Do you remember attacking him?"

"I…no." She shut her eye. "…yes. There was a fire. Then we were in an alley. The bitch in the tin can sucker-punched me. Then…"

"Did you see what happened to him? Do you know where they would have taken him?" he asked.

She shook her head and groaned. "No. It's all just a blur. Now let me out of here."

Beast Boy hesitated. He still couldn't smell the cocktail of sweat and adrenaline he had come to associate with lies. She was scared, maybe, and definitely furious, but not lying.

Then again, she hadn't remembered being captured until a few moments ago. With time, she could remember something that might lead them to Robin. She was the only lead they had left.

He backed out of the doorway. "You're not going anywhere until we find Robin. So if I were you, I'd focus on remembering where he might be. Until then, you can stay in this holding cell."

Her eye lit with fury. "Are you joking? You're going to leave me in a broom closet?" she demanded.

"Yes! And it's inescapable," Beast Boy snapped as he slammed the door. "So don't even try!" he added loudly.

Her muffled shouting followed him down the corridor. "When I get out of here, I'm gonna make you turn into a chicken! Then I'm gonna make you into a pig! And then I'm gonna have green eggs and ham, you son of a bitch! Let me go!"

When he reached Ops' doors, he stopped for a moment. His forehead rested against the wall as he sighed. The cold metal leached the heat out of his face, numbing the frustration still clenched in his features.

With another deep breath, he pushed the leaves of the door aside, and saw Tek waiting for him. She nearly tackled him as he entered Ops.

"Well? What did she say? What happened to Robin?" asked Tek.

"She doesn't know," Beast Boy said. "Her memory is swiss cheese right now. Maybe with a little more time, she'll remember something else."

The bags under Tek's eyes deepened as she rubbed her face. "Are you kidding me? We've kept her strapped to a bed or a chair for over a day now waiting for her to detox on whatever whack-a-doo junk she was on, and she doesn't know anything?"

Tek groaned, and then stopped. "Wait. You said 'else.' Does she remember anything?"

Beast Boy hesitated, and then admitted, "She said some crazy stuff about finding Slade. She thinks he was the one that gave her the new pirate chic look she's sporting."

The color drained from Tek's face. "Slade?" she stammered in a small voice. "You don't seriously think she's telling the truth, do you? He's dead."

After a moment's pause, Beast Boy said, "Until Señor Cyclops shows up and starts kicking my perfect green ass all over the map, I say we don't take the word of the junkie villain locked in our broom closet." He ran a hand through his hair. A breath whistled out his nose. Then he said, "So what do we do now?"

"You're asking me?" Tek blurted. "I ran out of ideas the fifth time I called the police. Lieutenant Smith won't answer my calls, and the precinct's main line told me to stop calling. Can't you go all bloodhound and sniff him out?"

Beast Boy grimaced at the winter rain blanketing the city. Ops' windows were one expansive landscape of gray, drab misery. "This weather washes out any scent in seconds. I couldn't track someone further than fifty yards if I'm lucky. I could maybe hear him if the rest of the city was nice enough to stay dead quiet for about an hour…"

She bit her lip. Her hand found the communicator hooked to her belt. "We should really call—"

"No," Beast Boy said immediately, jabbing a finger at Tek. He gestured to his own tall, lanky frame, and said, "As someone who's body has completely gone off the reservation before—twice—take my word for it. Vic just needs some time to himself."

"But—"

"We're not calling him," he told her.

Her fingers tightened around the device's yellow casing. She bit her lip again to keep herself from admitting that she had already tried to call Cyberion four times while he was gone. He hadn't answered, just like all the other calls she had made. It had been two months since Cyberion had last contacted them.

Tek wanted to say that she understood his need for time. She wanted to be understanding while he adapted to his new body. But all she really wanted was to hear Cyberion tell her that everything would be okay. She wanted him to be home again.

Beast Boy's stern expression dropped. "I get it, Allie. I miss him too. But even if he picked up this time, do you really think he could help? Vic could be anywhere in the world right now. We gotta do this one on our own."

Tek pressed her hand to the cold glass, staring out at the city beyond. "So what's the alternative? Do we patrol the city hoping to just randomly find Robin?"

Neither of the two could answer her question. They stood silently, watching the city across the bay. The distant metropolis had never looked so imposingly big.

Bushido cleared his throat behind them. They turned, surprised. Neither of them had heard the swordsman enter. "Is everything all right?" he asked.

"We're about as screwed as we were a few hours ago," Beast Boy said. He frowned, and added, "What the hell are you wearing?"

Bushido looked down at his pristine white silk robes. The material shimmered even in the dreary light. "I…It is not important. Was the interrogation…?"

"No," Beast Boy said flatly. "So ditch the PJs and grab your poncho. We're gonna start searching for Robin ourselves."

Bushido hesitated. His hand drifted near the hilt at his waist. Then he nodded, and said, "Of course. Robin must be our primary concern."

The glass fogged around Tek's hand. The words they had fought to keep from speaking aloud for over a day now burst from her lips. "So what do we do if we can't find him? What happens then?" she asked.

Beast Boy said, "Robin's smarter than all of us put together. If we can't find them, then I bet he'll find us."

* * *

Robin crouched in the corner of the hotel rooftop, leaning heavily against the cement lip that circled the edge. The wet rasp of his breath grated against the constant thrum of the rain. His breath left him in steaming clouds, each heave tearing at the stitch in his side.

His cheek pooled against the cold surface, his patchy stubble scraping the mottled cement. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about how long it had been since he had eaten or slept. His legs throbbed. His head pounded.

The dumpster two alleys back had bought him a few minutes of relative peace. An overwhelming stench clung to his body, reminding him of how close a call it had been. Groaning, he pulled a rotting banana peel out of his collar and tossed it aside, trying not to gag.

_Sloppy,_ he chided himself. _Batman would never let you hear the end this. No backup communicator, no backup plans, and no escape route. You practically served yourself up to this Immortus clown on a silver platter._

Robin sagged at the memory of his days of being lectured in the Batcave. This fight for justice he had invited himself into had seemed so much simpler when he had been a sidekick. Back then, he would jump and quip and follow orders. There were days—like today—when he missed being under Batman's thumb. Life had been more frustrating, but it had been a great deal easier, too.

The void in his stomach growled at him. He patted his half-empty belt. _Bird-themed protein bars,_ he thought, making a note for future equipment development.

The stairwell door across the rooftop slammed open. Robin managed to roll onto his backside to see Immortus emerging from the open door. The gray-templed man opened an umbrella and stepped out onto the roof.

Three shapes in trench coats and hats followed him. The coats moved with unnerving symmetry to spread across the roof. Their boots tread the tar paper in perfect unison until they had blocked off any possible escape route Robin could take. Then they stopped and stood perfectly still.

"You, young sir," Immortus said, "are quite a tenacious fellow. I've known veteran warriors with twice your experience who would have given up by now."

"So glad I could impress you," Robin wheezed.

Immortus waggled his finger. "I didn't say I was impressed. I've known many men who could have eluded me entirely at this point. The fact that you aren't yet dead is not entirely of your own merit."

Robin rested his head on the concrete rim and laughed. "I'd wondered," he said. "You had the perfect lure in place. You had your fake Ravager lead me into that alley. One decent sniper could have ended it right there."

The implacable man's polished Italian shoes stopped mere yards from where Robin sat. "I wanted to know you," Immortus admitted.

Slowly, Robin climbed the side of the short rim. He managed to seat himself atop the lip. Leaning on his knees, he said, "You've never heard of Facebook?"

"Oh, I've studied everything about you," said Immortus. "Every video. Every report. Every profile. Every secondhand account. But these echoes pale in comparison to the real man. You only truly meet someone when you face him with a drawn sword."

"Wish I could say it was nice to meet you," Robin grunted.

He turned his attention to the statuesque henchmen lining the roof behind Immortus. Their collars were upturned, and they wore scarves across their faces wrapped nearly to the short brims of their hats. But with careful attention, he caught a glimpse of red reflection in the tiny gap of their disguise.

"Nice robots," he added, nodding to the motionless coats.

Immortus smiled. "Perceptible as well. Very good. They were provided to us from a mutual acquaintance, I believe. Doctor Techmann." Gesturing to the coats, Immortus added, "These were among the first of the production models he made for us before you and your colorful gang dealt with him."

Robin felt the rain trace cold lines around his grin. "Rumors of his death have been somewhat exaggerated," he said. "You can try asking him yourself. I understand S.T.A.R. Labs keeps most of him in a fifty-five-gallon drum in their Biohazard Ward in case he ever wakes up."

The corner of Immortus's mouth quirked. "Yes, I recall the incident. You're very pleased with that kill, aren't you?"

As Immortus smiled, Robin's face hardened, losing its false mirth. "I don't kill. Techmann ran out his own battery. But I'm not losing any sleep over him," Robin growled. "And if I had anything to do with taking down that dangerous lunatic, I count it as a win."

Immortus gave him an appreciative nod. "Sadly, it will count as your final costumed success. You're easily in the top fifty young warriors I've ever met. In another ten years you would have been something truly amazing," Immortus said. With a somber expression, he added, "But sadly, our game was always meant to come to this end."

Open air teased Robin's fingertips as he felt around the edge of the building beside him. "Is that so?" he asked idly.

Immortus nodded. "I invented the concept of tactics," he said. "Everything you've learned about the art of war from your pointy-eared mentor originated with me. I know anything and everything you could possibly conceive of, child."

Robin quirked his head, looking the general from his expensive shoes to his salt and pepper hair. "Even if I bought the idea that you're some kind of low-rent Vandal Savage—which I don't, by the way—I can think of at least one thing I know that you don't."

"Oh?" Amusement wrought Immortus's face.

Robin rocked backwards, bracing himself on his hands. His mouth twitched. "This hotel we're on top of? Liep Heights? It's been cited by the city at least four times in the last year alone for the same minor infraction."

Immortus's brows knit in confusion.

"They never remember to take their flags down when it rains."

Tilting backwards, Robin toppled over the edge of the rooftop. The last thing he saw over the lip of the rim was Immortus giving him a bemused smirk while the trench coats behind him leapt forward.

Then the world whirled around Robin. He plummeted among the raindrops, the wind ripping at his face. His empty stomach flipped in free-fall as the street rushed up to catch him. But he blocked out the torrent of sensations and focused on the fluttering California state flag strung over the entrance of the hotel.

As the red and white fabric loomed beneath him, he reached out and snagged its edge. His gloves wrapped into the flag in desperation. He didn't have time to brace himself before his grip yanked against gravity.

Agony exploded up the length of his arms. His teeth crashed together to bite back a scream. The sound of ripping fabric filled his ears, and then he slammed into the gray masonry of the building, and felt a rib give. He bounced and tumbled over the street, watching the dreary cityscape swirl into a beige palette. Then something slammed into his back, and the world went blissfully dark.

When his eyes opened again, he heard a car horn blaring underneath him. It took an unbelievable amount of effort to turn his head so he could see the crushed yellow hood of the taxi cab that had caught him in the street. When he drew a breath, it sent a rush of fire through his chest. His extremities throbbed with a more general ache.

People were beginning to gather around the hood, making Robin think that he hadn't been unconscious for more than a few seconds. The driver of the unfortunate cab climbed out, seeing Robin clearly now that the spider-webbed windshield wasn't in the way. Robin let his head loll back against the hood. He coughed, and instantly regretted it, as the pain nearly made him black out again.

Then, underneath the low, growing din of the murmuring crowd, Robin heard a metallic growl. His blood ran cold at the sound. His heart thundered with a rush of fresh adrenaline. Fighting the pain in every muscle, he struggled to reach his utility belt.

The cabby had started to reach for Robin, but pulled back as the Teen Wonder's hand crawled across his own body. "Hey, Robin, man…you look really messed up. Are you okay?" he asked, not knowing what else to say to a costumed hero planted in his car.

Robin heard the growl sharpen into a snarl.

"Move!" he bellowed, and threw his legs up over his head, rolling out of the cratered taxi hood.

The crowd scrambled back from Robin in a chorus of panicked cries as the metal dog landed where Robin had lain. The dog's jaws buried into the metal and tore away a twisted chunk, which it spat as its narrow optic on the flipping Teen Wonder. Then the dog crouched and leapt, rocking the cab on its shocks in pursuit.

Cars screeched in both directions, their bumpers and hoods narrowly missing Robin as he ran across the street. He skimmed the hood of a hydroplaning coupe that slammed into the pickup truck parked at the traffic light. Specks of glass peppered the back of his neck as the vehicles came together in a clash of rending metal.

As his feet plunged back onto the flooded street, he cradled the last two explosive discs from his utility belt. He looked back to see the robot dog sailing over the crumpled accordion of the coupe's hood. As the dog's claws and teeth careened toward his chest, Robin loosed the discs and caught the dog right below its neck.

Fire and force blossomed above the street, blowing the dog and his quarry in two opposite directions. Robin tried to roll back onto his feet, but his fractured ribs howled in protest. He slammed into the side of a minivan instead, making a clamshell of the flimsy door.

The soccer mom inside the van was screaming at him as Robin staggered to his feet. He braced himself against the van and searched through the dissipating wisps of fire and smoke. He saw the crowd around the cab dispersing, clawing at each other to get away from the distress. The sound of sirens crawled forward at a great distance, trying to fight their way through gridlock to arrive too late to the scene.

When the van accelerated out from under his palm, Robin staggered backward onto the sidewalk, pushing into the second crowd that had gathered to watch the fight from a safer distance. They surged away from them as though he were carrying a plague. He ignored them and collapsed against the nearest wall, his head leaning against his arm as he sucked desperate, greedy breaths.

As the sound of the sirens grew closer, he considered staying and waiting for the police. It went against everything he had ever been taught. But as the edges of his vision began to go dark, he wondered if maybe it wouldn't be worth the risk. Just this once.

Then, amidst the bustle of the street, Robin heard metal paws scraping against pavement.

Sucking in a pained gasp to chase the darkness from his eyes, Robin lurched into the nearest alleyway and began to run.

* * *

Bushido's calloused, perfectly groomed fingertips drummed against the hilt of his sword. He closed his eyes against the sheets of rain that hammered him and his green pterodactyl steed. They flew just below the cloud line, where the rain fell sideways in icy blasts. Beast Boy shivered underneath him, but Bushido hardly noticed.

The hilt felt electric in his grasp. In the months following Trigon's destruction, the sword had spoken nary a whisper. Now it sang. It bellowed a name without using words. It sang in a deafening chorus of the last person he ever would have expected.

_I could live a thousand years and never begin to understand your scheming,_ he thought at the hilt.

A flash of red light tore Bushido from his thoughts. He looked up as his pterodactyl mount banked steeply to the left to avoid the path of a flare burning its way into the sky.

Above them, Tek wheeled her arms, her thrusters flaring to stop her in midair. As Beast Boy eased his turn into a wide circle, the armored girl watched the red light arc high until it disappeared into the clouds. She looked down and saw at once where the flare had been launched from. Motioning to Beast Boy, who cawed in reply, Tek began to descend.

Red and blue lights glowed against the squat office buildings on either side of the street. The squad car parked at the curb slowed traffic in either direction with rubbernecks. When the Titans flew down from the clouds, the slow traffic practically stopped.

The grizzled man leaned against the hood of the squad car scowled at Tek as she touched down on the sidewalk. His scowl deepened at the chain of car horns that accompanied the pterodactyl landing atop his car, where it became a lanky green teenager with another teen perched on his shoulders.

Tek dropped to her feet as her armor retracted into its luminous portal at her back. The rain soaked her skin suit and plastered her hair to her scalp in a matter of seconds. "Lieutenant Smith! You got my messages!" she exclaimed.

Beast Boy lurched off of the roof of Smith's car. Bushido left his shoulders in midair to land lightly next to the shapeshifter, hardly kicking up a splash from the deep puddles in the sidewalk. "Also, there's this thing called a 'phone.' It's better for getting people's attention than shooting fire at them while they're flying," he groused.

Smith, head of Jump City's Special Crimes Unit and possessor of at least one ulcer he claimed was the Titans' doing, knit his bushy white brows together. He set his flare gun on the hood of his car and said, "I needed to get your attention."

Beast Boy pulled his communicator and flipped it open with a theatrical gesture. "Full bars," he said, pointing to the device's screen.

Smith's frown spread to engulf the rest of his face. The expression made him look twice as old. "I needed to get your attention," he said with forced calm, "without leaving some uncomfortable numbers in my call history."

Beast Boy and Tek exchanged confused looks. But Bushido kept his gaze levelly on the old policeman. "You did not signal us to land in order to deliver good news," he said.

Tek's hands flew to her mouth. "Have you found Robin? Is he hurt?" she asked through her fingers.

The lieutenant's face softened at her panicked tone. He straightened his weather-beaten fedora, sending a small waterfall cascading onto his jacket, and said, "I don't think I know anything more than you do. In the past thirty-six hours we've gotten over a dozen sightings. The first time, a couple of uniforms wound up in the hospital when something flattened their car."

Lifting an eyebrow, Bushido said, "Robin attacked the officers?"

"We don't think so," said Smith. "Eyewitnesses at every sighting have mentioned some kind of thing chasing him. Sometimes it's a dog. Other times it's some kind of red-eyed demon. Sometimes it's a bunch of mobsters in trench coats." He tugged his own coat tighter across his shoulders in a discomfited gesture.

"He's being chased!" Beast Boy said. Then he frowned and echoed himself. "He's being chased?"

"It's been two days," Tek exclaimed. "How can no one know where he is after two days? Why haven't you found him or caught whoever's chasing him?"

"You ever try to grab smoke from half a town away?" Smith asked. "Every time we catch wind of the kid or whatever's after him, he's long gone, and so is whatever's chasing him. All we've got are a few scared witnesses after the fact."

Bushido began to argue, "But with multiple sightings—"

Smith held up his hand. "In at least six different boroughs. No rhyme or reason, no pattern." He sighed, and added, "I've never been to Gotham, but I'm betting their capes stay in the game by knowing how to keep out of sight. If your Boy Wonder earned his stripes there, we might not be able to find him until he wants to be found, or until it's too late."

Beast Boy's head fell in disappointment. Then he nodded, and said, "Okay. I'll go to the last place Robin was seen and see if I can't maybe sniff out something in this mess." His outline blurred and shrank into the shape of a bloodhound.

"And I can still scout from the air," Tek said. "Maybe if something happens I can get there in time. My suit can really book when I don't have to worry about traffic."

Bushido drew the hood of his rain slicker over his head. "Robin is not the only one versed in stealth. Perhaps with some coordination from your men, Lieutenant, I may find Robin by anticipating his path."

They waited for a long moment as Smith considered their plans. The rain drummed against the flashing squad car. The sound was deafening in the old cop's silence.

Then Smith looked down and said, "Go home."

They stared at him, agape. The words stunned Beast Boy back into his human form, his jaw dropped and eyes wide.

"What?" Tek said, bursting.

Smith rubbed his face, trying to harden his expression without much success. He sighed, and said, "Look, kids, I need you to go home and let us handle this. We'll find your friend and stop whatever's tearing apart the town."

"But…but we can help!" Tek insisted. "We always help! That's what we do!"

"Is that a fact?" Smith snapped, his tone becoming impatient. "Look at the last three years. This town gets invaded by robots, and you're at the heart of it. We get a whole crew of little monsters with powers and masks calling themselves the 'Teen Tyrants,' and all they seem to want to do is take a swing at you. The whole town—the whole world!—goes dark for half a day, and it's because of you. And you still haven't explained that little escapade, have you?"

White fangs glinted as Beast Boy's lips curled. His body shifted slightly, his weight tensing onto the balls of his feet. "It wasn't like that," he growled.

The shapeshifter's body language made Smith's hand drift a little closer to the holster at his hip. He didn't reach for the gun yet, but the thought was still there. "Maybe it was, and maybe it wasn't. But it still happened. People got hurt, and that's enough."

"But we're the good guys," said Tek.

Smith softened a little at the desperation in Tek's tone. "Let me put this another way. Every cop in this city has been given orders to send you kids packing. Word's come in from the top: if you so much as jaywalk, you can expect anything with a badge to make your life a living hell. If I hadn't pulled you out of the air when I did, you'd probably be staring down a couple of helicopters and an arrest order right now."

Tek's mouth flapped wordlessly. Finally, she managed to whimper, "B-But we're the good guys!"

"This is bullshit!" Beast Boy snapped. "After everything we've done—"

"Hey!" Smith barked, startling the teen back into silence. "I hate to burst your 'Center of the Universe' bubble, but this new policy isn't just about you. Jump City has a higher instance of metahuman crime than any other city in the nation. We beat Metropolis two years running, for Christ's sake! If we don't do something to lock down the meta situation, we won't be on the map come Christmastime."

Bushido spoke up in a calm, soft voice. "Our apologies, Lieutenant. We were unaware of our being a 'situation.' "

Smith met the cool observation with a glare. "It's a new policy against costumed metahuman activity. That's a hell of a lot better than the witch hunt some of the higher ups are calling for." After a moment's hesitation, he squared his shoulders, adding, "And frankly, the policy's long overdue."

Eyes closed, Beast Boy clenched his fists tightly at his sides until they shook. His skin squirmed for a moment, as if it couldn't decide if it wanted to be something other than human, perhaps something with bigger teeth. But then his skin settled and his eyes opened again.

"We're not just gonna leave our friend out there," he said.

Smith met Beast Boy's inhuman eyes with a steady, unwavering gaze. "Saving people is my job," he said. "Go home and be kids. We'll find Robin."

Beast Boy tried to hold the man's gaze with a challenging look, but Smith simply ignored him. The old officer took his flare gun from the hood and got into his car. When the Titans remained standing in front of his bumper, he rolled down his window and motioned them toward him.

As they gathered around the window, hoping he'd changed his mind, they found instead his outstretched hand with a twenty-dollar bill in it. "And take a cab, okay?" Smith said. "No metal. No dinosaur. …at least not until you reach the bay."

Numbly, Tek took the bill. She watched Smith's car grumble back into traffic, its lights flicking off. The sight of the car grew hot and blurry as it turned the corner. Blinking hard, she looked back at Beast Boy and Bushido, and asked, "So what do we do now?"

Beast Boy slapped the bill out of her hand, startling her. She shrank back as he kicked the bill into the overflowing gutter. "We find Robin!" Beast Boy snarled. "And if the cops have a problem with it, we—"

Bushido rested his hand on Beast Boy's shoulder. The swordsman placed himself between the other two Titans, staring placidly through Beast Boy's furious scowl. Beast Boy stood nearly a foot taller than Bushido, and the corded muscle in the shapeshifter's neck spoke of dangerous things.

But Bushido didn't waver. He didn't move a muscle. He didn't blink until Beast Boy's eyes dropped in sullen defeat.

"We will continue to seek our wayward friend," Bushido said. Bending, he retrieved the sodden bill and brushed it clean. "And we will do so as ordinary people would, by walking on the ground and asking questions. But first we will find something hot to drink, and we will purchase a rain slicker for Tek."

Objection welled in Beast Boy's lips. Then he saw Tek's shivering, and met her wide, frightened eyes. He swallowed his argument and said, "Right. Let's do that."

As they turned to leave, Tek couldn't help but stare at the thick rush hour traffic choking the streets. She saw building after building rising up in the distant blocks. There were a hundred places she could think to hide in the city. Who knew how many more Robin could find? And without her suit, she didn't know if she could keep from freezing to death, let alone find a single person who didn't want to be found in such a vast place.

"Titans, go," she mumbled, her lips already numb.

* * *

Robin's knees splashed through fetid water and struck hard concrete. He yelped, plunging his hands into the muck to keep from collapsing onto his face. tired as he was, the prospect of drowning in a sewer kept him upright. He staggered to his feet and slogged deeper into the tunnel.

A circle of dim light from the open manhole behind him cast a gray film down a dozen yards of the tunnel. Everything beyond the edge of the light was an inky black mystery. When he tried to draw a large breath to steady himself, the stench made him gag. Thick slime gushed between his gloved fingers as he caught himself against the wall. He heaved and gasped, swallowing against the wall of bile fighting its way up his throat.

Memories began rushing back to him. He remembered nights spent in steam tunnels during those months when his father hadn't been around to pay rent. On those nights, only a stolen, threadbare blanket and the warm stench of the tunnels kept him alive. The oppressive sense of déjà vu closed in around him while he fought to breathe.

When he heard the splash behind him, he moved on instinct. His hand had already found the last of his birdarangs in his utility belt. He had three left, and then two, as he watched one of the precious weapons bounce uselessly off the metal dog's chassis. He had one cryo disc left, and fifty yards of liquid cable with no grapple hook to go with it. The rest of the belt's pouches were empty.

"Go ahead and eat me," Robin sneered as he reached for the last disc. "I'll just gunk up the servos in your mouth, you stupid robot. Then who's the winner?"

The dog crouched low, its stainless steel belly dipping into the slurry as it stalked toward Robin. Its sweeping red optic cast the tunnel in a hellish glow. Its growl reverberated, coming from every direction at once. Robin steeled himself to throw the disc the instant he saw the dog pounce. He just hoped his leaden arm was up to the task.

Then a shrill voice called from behind him. "Watch your eyes!"

Robin didn't have time to turn at the warning before a small object flew over his shoulder. Obeying the voice, Robin threw his arm over his eyes and crouched just as the dog leapt.

He felt a sudden heat, and saw blinding light seeping into the edge of his vision even through his arm. A canine yelp filled the tunnel, followed by a splash, and then the sound of something thrashing in the water.

Something grabbed Robin's other hand, dragging it out of his utility belt and pulling him backwards. "Come on!" the voice said.

Robin's vision trickled back to him while he stumbled in tow. As they lurched around a corner, he saw a flash of purple, and heard fabric fluttering in front of his nose. Then they passed beyond the feeble reach of the light from the manhole cover and plunged into utter blackness.

The pitch black didn't seem to slow the pace of Robin's rescuer. Robin felt himself pulled forward another ten yards before he was jerked around another corner. He caught sight of the red optic rounding the last corner in pursuit, and heard the dog's clanking footsteps splashing through the filth.

Without warning, the grip on Robin's arm flung him into a wall. He felt cold slime against the back of his neck. Then he heard a dull _thump_, followed by a terrific crash of metal on concrete that deafened him.

As Robin cupped his ears, a soft light began to glow next to him. He saw a spillway gate closing off the tunnel they had just left. It had been the sound of the gate falling into place that had nearly split his eardrums. Even through the ringing in his ears, he could still hear sounds of metal claws scrambling against the thick, rusting door.

The boot that had kicked the spillway door's lever dropped back into the muck. Its owner aimed her flashlight toward Robin, blinding him again. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He hissed and pushed the flashlight down. As his eyes readjusted, he began to take stock of his rescuer.

She was shorter than him by half a head, and jarringly skinny for someone so strong. Her black leggings and black patchwork leotard clung to the protruding ribs and athletic curves of a girl who did more running than eating. An oversized purple cloak hung across her shoulders, its hood drawn up around a full face mask. Upon closer examination, he saw that the cloak was little more than a blanket that had been clumsily stitched and pinned into shape. A shoulder bag hung by her hip, strung across her chest and half-concealed by the folds of the cloak.

Blank white lenses stared at him from the blank nylon that covered her face. "Are you okay?" she repeated. "You look awful."

Robin felt awful. But he straightened and drew his cape around him, trying to appear like he wasn't about to pass out. "I'm fine," he said in his best Gotham Growl. "Who are you?"

Even though her face was hidden, her smile was palpable in her voice. "Someone who doesn't like to see grouches get eaten by robot dogs. And you're welcome, by the way."

They both jumped at a sharp ringing sound from the other side of the door. The thick metal didn't bow, but it rattled violently in its housing. Another blow struck, and another, and another.

Cupping her hands to her shrouded mouth, the girl shouted, "I think we should get moving before poochy decides to circle around."

She aimed her flashlight and started to lead Robin through the slurry. After a few minutes of walking, the sounds of pounding metal became a distant whisper. Soon the noise faded entirely into the ringing of Robin's ears.

"Do you know where we're going?" Robin asked after their fifth sudden turn.

She laughed. "I will when we get there," she said.

He blinked. Just by sight alone, he didn't know what to make of this stranger. She looked like she might belong to his crowd, but her dumpster chic threw the whole notion on its ear.

"Who are you?" he asked again.

The grin returned to her voice as she turned her blank white lenses back at him. "I'm a Spoiler," she said.

* * *

Tek gripped the steaming mug to keep her hands from shaking. The thin parka crinkled around her, drizzling water into the plastic seat of their booth. Cold radiated from the window next to them, making her wish they had found a seat somewhere else. The rain drumming against the glass helped to drown out the sound of her own chattering teeth.

The all-night diner clattered with a sizeable clientele. There were the usual insomniacs, night owls, creepers, and teenagers. Many more ordinary pedestrians had found a booth or table to escape the relentless winter rain. A few harried waitresses circled the diner, obviously tired as they hauled platters to and from the kitchen.

An uneasy weight pressed Tek between her shoulder blades. She kept glancing over her shoulder, craning her neck to search the rest of the diner for the source of her discomfort. She didn't notice it at first. Only after the fourth or fifth glance did she catch sight of it out of the corner of her eye.

"Everybody's not-staring at us," she murmured.

The comment drew Beast Boy out of his sullen reverie. He looked up from the table, frowning. "Huh?"

"The people in here. They're not-staring at us," Tek insisted.

Beast Boy swiveled his head, looking around the diner. "Uh, sure. Two teenagers in spandex and one in an anime bathrobe probably isn't so weird on this side of midnight. No reason people would be staring at us. Remember the lovely conversation we had with that transvestite Pope of Discord in Southtown?"

"S/he had quite striking eyes," Bushido agreed. "But Tek is correct."

"It's not that they're staring," Tek said. "They're 'not-staring.' See?"

Beast Boy looked again, and understood. Whenever he caught someone's head turned his way, that person suddenly found something else to look at. He could smell guilt, and fear, and anger, and weariness, all wafting underneath the greasy smell of food. After two or three near misses, Beast Boy aimed his glare back at the tabletop. "Well, why not? We're practically criminals now," he grumbled.

Bushido sipped at the water in front of him. He made a face and put it down. "We have always been criminals," he said matter-of-factly.

Fangs glinted behind Beast Boy's curling lip. His fingertips raked the tabletop, the gloves keeping his claws from leaving deep furrows in the surface. "Bushido, I really don't think now is the time for one of your wordy, smarmy, psychoanalytical speeches. So don't."

"I wasn't going to," Bushido said.

"You were," Beast Boy snapped. "So don't."

Bushido considered another sip of water, and then thought better of it, and pushed the glass away. The swordsman folded his arms, his fingers drumming against the sleeve of his keikogi.

Sullenly, Tek said, "Do you think Lieutenant Smith thinks we're criminals?"

"That two-timing old sourpuss can kiss the ass of the biggest animal I can think of," Beast Boy said. "After everything we've done for this city, he won't lift a finger to help us. All he cares about is keeping a shine on that badge of his."

"I sincerely doubt the choice was Smith's. He leads a single department under the prevue of the police commissioner," Bushido retorted calmly. "And he himself told us that his orders came from a higher power."

Beast Boy groaned and rolled his eyes. "Mayor Winters? You'd think he would wise up and get with the program like the last mayor." He collapsed onto the table with a sigh. "I miss the old mayor…What's-His-Face."

"The last mayor was a woman," Bushido said.

"With hair like that? Not a chance," said Beast Boy.

"Guys!" Tek interjected sharply. When their eyes fell to her, Tek's voice fell into a tremulous murmur. "Guys, what are we going to do? We've been pounding the pavement for hours, and we still can't find Robin. And without help from the police, we'll never figure out where these trouble spots keep cropping up fast enough to catch up to him. He's alone out there. He needs us."

A moment of guilty silence passed between the two boys. Then Bushido laced his fingers together, resting his chin on his knuckles, and said, "We know, Tek. We aren't giving up. We just…"

He was struggling to finish the thought when a throat cleared next to them. Looking up, they saw their waitress standing next to the table. She clutched a paper pad in front of her, her body tightening as if she were trying to hide behind it. "Um…are you ready to order?" she asked.

"We already did," Beast Boy said, and tapped Tek's steaming mug.

"I don't need a reheat," Tek said quickly, and smiled. "But I'll let you know. Thanks."

The girl, no more than sixteen, brushed her hair back over her ear in a nervous gesture. Though she tried to hide it, she was obviously looking back at the man behind the counter. The greasy, sweat-stained, portly, balding lump of a human being glared back at her.

Before any of the Titans could ask her, she stammered, "It's a really busy night tonight. I'm afraid if…if you aren't going to order any food, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. We'll need the booth."

Beast Boy blinked. "But we bought the coffee," he said.

Tek blushed and gripped the cup. She tried to disappear into the hood of her plastic poncho as she added, "And we don't have any more money."

Risking another glance over her shoulder, the waitress fiddled with her pad, and said, "I'm sorry, but...but, um…" She couldn't even bring herself to look up from her shoes. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice hardly a whisper.

Bushido caught sight of the portly man beginning to circle the counter. He saw the outrage gathering in Beast Boy's expression. Reaching across the table, Bushido grasped the shapeshifter's wrist. He graced the waitress with his calmest, sweetest smile, and said, "Of course. We understand. Could we please get a to-go cup for my friend's drink?"

Grateful for an excuse to leave, the waitress sped back to the counter. Beast Boy started to protest, but the pressure on his wrist made him stop. He glanced at Bushido, whose head shook almost imperceptibly. The three Titans had extracted themselves from their booth by the time the waitress returned with a Styrofoam cup and transferred Tek's coffee.

"Come on," Beast Boy said. "We should get going anyway. We've still got a lot of ground left to cover."

As they started toward the door, a loud guffaw called at them from across the diner. Beast Boy looked back to see a pair of enormous men squeezed into another booth. Plates laden with lumpy, oozing mounds of roast beef, soggy toast, mashed potatoes molded by an ice cream scoop, and a generous heap of canned corn sat untouched on the table between them.

The waitress that had helped the Titans recoiled from the men's table, looking scared to be caught in the matter again. That left the man who had laughed to stare unopposed at Beast Boy. "Hey, if you kids are gonna traipse all over the city again, do us all a favor and stay away from Third Street, huh?"

"What?" Beast Boy said, his voice hardening.

The other man at the booth nodded. "Hell, yeah. We just finished with that mess last week. Put the last pavement in myself. Be a shame if we had to start all over again."

After a moment of confused staring, Beast Boy spotted the pair of hardhats sitting on the table next to the men's dinners. He saw their black-stained jumpsuits, their thick builds, and understood.

Third Street had been the home of their previous base, the now-mothballed Titans Compound. It had suffered a number of attacks, including the last one, which had torn apart much of the street itself. These were obviously the men, two among probably many, who were responsible for putting it back together.

"Hey," Beast Boy said, "here's a thought. Next time some psycho scientist made of nanites attacks the city, hows about you punch him in his blobby face, and I'll scrape the pavement back together. Sound good?"

"The way I hear it, that monster wasn't attacking the city," the second man said. "It was after you freaks."

Tek thrust her cup at the men so violently that she nearly sprayed coffee across half the diner. Only the plastic lid saved them all from scalding. "Don't call him a freak!" she snapped, her face twisting in anger.

The first man turned back to his friend as if he hadn't heard Tek. "Yeah," he said, nodding. "That was right around the time everybody lost that day. Everybody got turned into statues. That right?"

"Only not everybody got turned back," the second man said, and shot a meaningful look at the Titans. "Buddy of mine was driving his car. Blacks out, like everybody else. They found the car wrapped around a tree outside of his house with a bunch of gravel in the front seat."

The catlike pupils of Beast Boy's eyes shrank into dangerous slivers. His gloves tore open, the fingertips exploding into long, cruel claws. Sharp fangs emerged from his lips as he took a step toward the two construction workers. "Don't you ever—!" he began to snarl.

The two men were halfway out of their seat when Bushido stopped Beast Boy with an arm across his chest. The swordsman held Beast Boy back, trembling with the effort, but his face remained placid. He managed a half-bow to the startled men as he said, "Excellent advice. Thank you, and please enjoy your meals."

Before the confused men could offer any kind of rebuttal, Bushido ushered the other Titans out of the diner. He marched Beast Boy around the corner of the building, where they took shelter from the rain under the diner's awning.

"What the hell was that?" Beast Boy demanded.

"That," Bushido said, fixing Beast Boy with a somber look, "was a long time coming."

The long claws protruding from Beast Boy's gloves rose, brandished at the implacable swordsman as Beast Boy snapped, "And what were you doing, bowing and scraping to those…those…?"

"People?" Bushido suggested.

"Where do they get off talking to us like that? We've worked our asses off to keep them safe! We have bled for them!" Beast Boy said.

Bushido cocked his head. "And in turn, they owe you what? Respect? Deference?"

The calm question broke Beast Boy. He swung at Bushido with a clumsy haymaker. His skin buzzed, aching to take the shape of a dozen different predators that could rip the arrogant swordsman apart.

Bushido used only a single hand to grasp and twist Beast Boy, turning his swing into a clumsy step that threw the shapeshifter against the diner's brick wall. As Beast Boy started to bounce, Bushido caught him with a hand to the chest, holding him against the side of the building.

Beast Boy glared. His chest worked like a bellows, his eyes burning with hate. "They're acting like they're the only ones who ever lost anything!" he screamed.

The cool look on Bushido's face never wavered. He stared down Beast Boy, keeping him at bay with a light but firm hand. Slowly but surely, Beast Boy's heaving breaths slowed into something closer to normal. His claws retracted to their normal length, peering from the ruined tips of his gloves.

Then, in a slow, even voice, Bushido said, "Yes. They are. They do not see what we endure because we cannot let them. They do not know of our pain because we can never show them. We bleed so they do not. We lose so they do not. And when we fail, when the cost becomes theirs again, they hate us for it. Because that is the life we choose. That is the life you chose."

Beast Boy stared at him. His slitted pupils relaxed as his eyes fell to the puddles seeping into his boots. "Yeah, well…it sucks sometimes," he said.

"In my previous vocation, I stayed in five-star hotels. I ate the finest meals crafted by the master chefs of kings, ministers, and diplomats. I answered to no one but myself and those individuals possessing the ludicrous wealth necessary to hire me." Bushido's face didn't so much as twitch as he said, "Now I eat prepackaged meals and defecate in a camping toilet. So you don't need to tell me how much our current situation sucks."

The comment earned a chuckle and a smile from Beast Boy, which Bushido mirrored. "Come on," Beast Boy said, "you gotta admit that a giant T is way cooler than any stupid hotel."

"It does possess a certain novelty," Bushido admitted with an impish gleam in his eyes.

Beast Boy rubbed his face. He looked out at the smeary gray that comprised the cityscape. "Let's try for a couple more hours," he said. "After that, we should get back to the Tower to make sure Rose Wilson didn't starve to death, or blow it up, or something. Right, Tek?"

He and Bushido looked back and found Tek hunched over in the rain, standing by the dumpsters outside the awning. She jumped at the mention of her name. "Huh? Yeah, I'm coming," she said, pulling her hood tighter around her face.

As Tek followed them out of the alley, she slid her open communicator back out of her pocket. The back of her hand crossed her cheek, coming back warm and wet before the rain soaked it in cold. She silently hoped the boys would blame the rain for the wet sheen on her cheeks.

The communicator's screen blinked at her with the words _CALL FAILED_ in huge, obnoxious lettering. She thumbed the redial button.

_Please, Vic_, she thought. _Where are you? We need you!_

* * *

The jewelry store's front window exploded in a flash of pink light. People ran screaming from the shower of glass. Cars swerved into one another, screeching and honking, filling the street with a cacophony of rending metal.

Jinx stepped over the empty sill, her shoes crunching through the shattered remains of the window. She hefted the heavy bag higher on her shoulder and surveyed the chaos spreading before her. A toothy grin split her face as she breathed it in.

"Sometimes you have to get back to basics," she said to herself. Pink hex crackled in her free hand. She looked over her shoulder, back into the wrecked innards of the jewelry store. "Hey, brick butt! Hurry up or I'll mash you into mortar!"

Her partner trundled through the window frame. His shoulder caught the edge, cracking the wood as if it were brittle plaster. He was naked from the waist up, wearing rough canvas pants and thick boots. His skin was a dusky gray color, his eyes, featureless and white.

"Just picking up your slack," he said, and hoisted two enormous duffel bags in one hand.

"You go for the quantity, Stone," she sneered at him. Reaching into her corset, she plucked one of the special picks she had tucked against the inside of the purple leather. The flawless gem glittered atop a setting of pure white gold as she turned it for him to see. "I go for quality."

Stone waggled his smooth, featureless eyebrows. "I already knew that," he said in a sultry voice.

She rolled her eyes and nudged him. "Shut up," she snorted. Then she rubbed her elbow, wincing.

He started to chuckle when a flicker of movement caught his eyes and drew them up. He lunged in front of Jinx. "Look out!" he cried.

By the time he had started to speak, a pair of steel arrowheads sank into his chest. The emerald fletching of the arrows quivered as thin fractures spread from the wounds. He scowled, looking back along the arrows' flight to the rooftop across the street. There, he saw a green shape poised to take another shot.

"Looks like Star City's long johns just showed up," Stone said, and yanked the arrows out of his chest. The wounds crackled with the sound of gravel being poured down a chute. In seconds, the gray flesh filled in, leaving no mark that the arrows had ever pierced him.

Jinx gestured to one side, aiming her palm at a fire hydrant outside the neighboring store. Her eyes flashed with power, and the hydrant exploded into a burst of steam. The street around them disappeared in a sweltering haze as Jinx directed the steam into the air with a wave of her hand.

Squinting hard, Stone saw the shape on the rooftop begin to drop down. "That won't stop him for long."

She slapped his backside and said, "So move! Unless you want to be just another frozen rock up in the Slab." Then she took off running, her cackle fading into the steam.

Stone started after her when something flashed in his vision. The words _INCOMING CALL_ filled his eyes, much larger than they usually were. He heard the chorus of the Rembrandts' _I'll Be There For You_, and saw Tek's name in the corner of his heads-up display.

_Ignore call,_ he thought.

Instead of stopping, the chorus continued. Another voice spoke calmly over the ringtone. _This is the fifth call Tek has placed today, Cyberion,_ said the Sarah Sim. _Are you certain you wish to ignore the call?_

He gritted his teeth. _I'm a little busy here, Sarah. Allie will have to wait_, he subvocalized.

Sarah continued, _Additionally, this will be the twenty-seventh call from Tek you have ignored in the previous month._

_ You've been tracking all of my calls?_ he thought at her, irritated.

She subvocalized calmly and cheerily, as she always did. Even so, he had come to know his onboard AI well enough to know that she was chastising him. _Your continued rebuffing of your friends' attempts at contact is indicative of a progression in your recent isolationist tendencies. As these tendencies represent a potential hazard to your continued mental and emotional wellbeing, my ethical subroutines dictate that I monitor these interactions._

_ So you're worried about me, _he thought at her.

Her soundless voice never wavered. _I am seeking to correct potentially self-destructive behaviors._

His jaw set. _I'm working. Ignore. Call._

The Rembrandts fell silent. The HUD disappeared from his vision. He chased after Jinx's cackle, hefting his bags of stolen jewelry, and added his laughter to hers as more arrows whizzed over his head.

**To Be Continued**


	4. Limits: Nowhere to Run

**Teen Titans**

**Absolution**

* * *

**Limits**: _Nowhere to Run_

The current swept her forward at unfathomable speeds, turning the starlight into a shimmering tunnel around her. She felt the ebbs and surges of the invisible particles push at her, making her drift gently toward either side of the containment field. It was a simple enough matter to push back and keep herself from drifting through the field. She needed more concentration to keep herself from absently skimming her fingers through the shimmering light. Its beautiful opalescence almost made her forget that it could shear her apart and spread her molecules across half a parsec if she passed into it.

Wormhole travel had never been her favorite form of space flight. The Antarean generator belt she had bartered for pinched uncomfortably around her waist. Worse, it had cost her an especially precious Centauren moon diamond, one that had stabbed at her heart to trade. But wormholes were the only means short of a boom tube that would have made her interstellar travels anything more than an aimless journey into the darkness between stars.

Still, she far preferred using her own flight. Her eyes stung wistfully at the memory of flying between moons, of dancing through asteroid belts with her sister and brother. They used to skim across craters the size of cities, working together to weave together contrails of glittering dust in their wakes. Before the Gordanians came, she could remember countless days spent in the silence of vacuum, flitting about with the people she loved most.

Then the twisting tunnel around her straightened, and she felt her homesick pang fade away at the sight of the wormhole's terminus. The glowing, puckered segment of space-time squeezed her tightly as she passed through it into the utter silence of vacuum.

Golden sunlight washed over her, a welcome change from the swirl of the wormhole. She drew in an empty, invigorating breath. Spreading her hands, she reveled in the feeling of the light streaming through her fingers and seeping into her skin. Her hair drifted behind her in lazy swirls as she looked around to gain her bearings.

When she saw the blue planet wreathed in opalescent clouds, a fierce grin broke over her face. She held out her hands and cupped the distant world. The imagined brush of the clouds and the oceans tickled her palms, making her smile harder. After months abroad across the galaxy and nearly a day's travel in the wormhole, her adopted home waited for her, just a short, silent jaunt away.

A sudden sound startled her. She felt heat against her bare stomach, and looked down to see her generator belt coughing up sparks. The belt's indicator lights darkened, and refused to reawaken no matter how many times she thumbed the startup switch.

Evidently her moon diamond had only been worth a wormhole generator with a faulty motivator. She remembered the old human proverb, _caveat emptor_. Her old knorf'ka, Galfore, had said it less poetically. "_Vacc those cheating Antareans!"_

She unbuckled the belt and tossed it aside, not really concerned. The belt had done its job in getting her home. It drifted into the path of the gray moon looming beside her as she pushed forward toward the planet. As fast as she was, it would still take her several hours to reach planetfall. Her heart thumped at the thought of setting foot on Earth again after so long away.

* * *

The green whale beached itself on the shore, its nose sliding forward to bump against the ruddy, sodden cliff face. Tek and Bushido slid down the whale's glistening skin to land in the surf. The icy water did little to phase the soaked teens, who had already endured the rain all throughout their trip across the bay.

Once his friends had disembarked, Beast Boy shrank back into his human shape. Waters frothed over his knees as he drew himself upright. He slogged through thick sand to join the others.

Tek hugged herself through the folds of her poncho. She looked up at the darkened Titans Tower. The sky behind it was a steely, featureless gray. Through chattering teeth, she said, "I can't tell if it's sunrise or sunset."

"Sunrise," Bushido said. "We were searching for nearly eighteen hours."

Beast Boy trudged past them both. His boots began the steep path leading up the cliff side. "We grab four hours of sleep and a hot meal. Then we get back to it," he told them.

Tek threw back her hood as she started up after Beast Boy. The flimsy plastic had done little to protect her anyway, leaving her pixie haircut plastered to her scalp. "Yay," she groaned. "More aimless walking."

Sighing, Bushido began to follow, and said, "Without municipal support, we can hope to do little better than our previous outing."

They crested the top of the hill in silence. The Tower loomed before them, its doors wedged and gaping. Next to them, the "NO SOLICITORS" sign Cyborg had put up when the Tower had first been completed now hung crookedly from a single bolt. Several of the enormous windowpanes were still empty, and the plastic tarps covering them flapped and cracked in the wind. It was the only noise that rose above the hammering of the rain.

As Tek and Bushido approached the doors, Beast Boy began to lag. After a few more paces, he stopped entirely, eliciting a curious look from the other two. He glanced back at the bay before saying, "You two go on ahead. I'm gonna...secure...something."

After a moment of awkward silence, Bushido suggested, "The perimeter, perhaps?"

"Yeah. That." Beast Boy gave them a weak smile. "Go warm up. I'll be right behind you."

Tek's face softened with understanding. "Sure, Gar. I'll make enough cocoa for two."

"For three," Bushido corrected her somberly.

Beast Boy watched them disappear into the Tower. Once he was certain they were gone, he sagged. His hand worked across his face, losing a thin spray of water from his dour features as he walked across the rough, soggy yard toward the stone circle.

The tombstone felt cold even against his chilled hand as he touched its onyx face. He ran his fingers across the inscription again, as he had done thousands of times before.

_Raven. _

_ A Teen Titan. _

_ A True Friend._

"You would have found him already," Beast Boy murmured. "You would have used some kind of telepathic-empathetic-magical bullshit to zoom in on him in a second. We'd all be home safe. Together."

The stone answered with the patter of raindrops.

He closed his eyes and tried to listen beyond the sounds of the rain. He could hear the ocean crashing for miles and, at the very edge, the sluggish bustle of the city in winter. But that was all.

"When am I..."

He choked. Leaning against the headstone, he wiped at his face again.

It was nearly a minute before he tried to speak again. After a shaky breath, he said, "When are we going to stop needing you?"

A high-pitched scream snapped his head away from the black stone. He looked up to the windows over Ops. The scream had been Tek's. He was certain.

Beast Boy leapt into the shape of a crow and beat his wings against the rain. Climbing quickly, he aimed his beak for one of the tarps covering an empty window. His shape ballooned into that of a gorilla that burst through the clear plastic and landed on his knuckles, fangs bared, eyes searching the murky room.

Rose Wilson sat on the couch, hand plunged into a bag of potato chips. She drew out a handful of cool ranch and shoved it into her mouth. Crumbs littered the floor around her, dusting the small stack of empty MREs next to her feet.

Behind her, Bushido stood poised with his hand on the hilt of his katana. Tek had summoned her armor, and had trained her plasma repeaters at their erstwhile prisoner.

"Hey," Rose grunted. "About time you geeks came back. Your 'holding cell' was getting a little stuffy, so I just made myself at home."

Tek's enormous fists trembled. "Don't move!" she cried. "You're not going anywhere!"

Rose twisted in her seat to stare directly into the white-hot glow of Tek's cannons. "No shit. Do you think I'd still be here if I had any way off this dump of an island? You asshats don't own a boat, and I didn't feel like swimming fifteen miles through freezing water in the middle of a storm." She shoved another handful of chips into her mouth.

Beast Boy shrank back into his old skin, his face twisted in a scowl. He started forward, his hand curled into fists. Then he stopped, and deflated. "We don't have time to deal with you. Just get out."

She scoffed, spattering the back of the couch with flecks of cool ranch. "Did you shapeshift your ears into assholes? I just said I'm stuck here, Green Bean!" she snapped. "If you want me gone so bad, then take me back to the city."

He snorted, folding his arms. "Are you seriously asking us for a ride?" He laughed, and added, "You know what? That's a great idea! How about we drop you off at the nearest precinct? God knows we could use the good publicity for bringing in—"

As he rolled his eyes, he saw a flash of moment. By the time he had straightened his gaze, he found one of Rose's sabers hovering less than an inch from his nose. She held the blade perfectly steady, fixing him with her single, icy blue eye.

"After I raided your fridge, I found my stuff," Rose said. With her free hand, she hoisted the helmet they had found and retrieved from the alley where Robin had disappeared. She had worked the dent away from the eyehole, though the metal was still puckered.

A shrill, electrical whine turned Rose's head. The glow of Tek's cannons had intensified, washing out the dim light in Ops to cast long, flickering shadows off the ends of Rose's feet.

"You really, really, really, really want to put the sword down," Tek told her.

Sighing, Rose sheathed the saber. "Un-wad your iron panties," she said. "I'm not looking for a fight. I just want out of here, okay? I mean, come on! Slade brainwashed me into this whole mess. Doesn't that, like, make me a victim or something? Aren't you supposed to save me? That's what heroes do."

"Buzz off, Cyclops!" Beast Boy snapped, stomping around the couch to push his face into hers. "We have more important things to deal with than your second-rate ass right now."

Rose's lips poured themselves into a mocking pout. "Aw, what's the matter, good guys? Did the power of friendship fail to make your little friend reappear?"

As Tek raised her cannons again, Bushido quickly answered, "In point of fact, it did."

"Good," said Rose. She tucked her helmet under her arm. "That means you didn't find the bastards who are after him yet either."

A gentle touch from Bushido convinced Tek to lower her weapons, if somewhat begrudgingly. His other hand dropped from the hilt of his sword as he stepped forward. "And why is that good?" he asked.

She grinned fiercely. "Because that means I get a swing at them. And buddy, when I'm done, there won't be enough of them left to fill a coffee mug."

Bushido frowned as if in deep thought. Then he shook his head. "No. If we cannot find Robin, and if the police cannot catch his pursuers, then I am certain you will have no better luck."

"Luck's got nothing to do with it, Eggroll," Rose shot back smugly. "I'll find these guys inside a day. Five minutes after I do, somebody's gonna need a mop."

"You could not even find a way off this island," Bushido retorted. "Your words are as hollow as your prowess. It's no wonder Robin's pursuers are enjoying so much success after we removed you from their ranks."

Rose sputtered. Then she squinted, tilting her head. "Are...are you seriously trying the reverse psychology thing on me?"

Bushido smiled. "Believe whatever you wish. The fact of the matter remains that I don't believe you. Prove me wrong, and we will happily send you on your way."

The words turned Beast Boy's and Tek's heads. "We will?" they said together.

"Find Robin in a day," Bushido said, "and you will be free to go wherever you wish. Or don't, and continue to leech off of our meager, unpalatable wares. The choice is yours."

"Ry, we're not just gonna let her go!" Tek protested tinnily.

"We will," he retorted calmly, his gaze still fixed on Rose, "because I am giving her my word. And because we have more important concerns at the moment than her 'second-rate ass.' "

Beast Boy glowered at Bushido for a moment more. He couldn't help but feel the seconds ticking by, knowing that with each one, Robin could be in greater danger, or worse. Then he looked to Rose, and snapped, "Well? Can you really do it?"

Rose considered the Titans for a moment. Her face split into an insufferable smile as she said, "I'm gonna need a city map, all the information you've got on Bird Boy, some markers, and a case of beer."

* * *

A gentle touch startled Robin. He roused, filling his hands with birdarangs before recognizing the blank face above him. The weapons clattered beside hi as he rubbed his face. "Was I asleep?" he asked, his voice hoarse and dry.

Spoiler shook her head. "I don't think so. It's hard to tell with the mask, but I think you were just zoned out. You were still sitting up."

The pieces of their surroundings came back to Robin. He heard the rain thrumming on the partition behind him, a waist-high stone wall at the top of the bell tower where they crouched. From there, they could see the entire block in both directions, all from the comfortable shroud of the great brass bell's shadow. Because of the opening, though, there wasn't much protection from the rain, which made him press against the partition to keep relatively dry. The stone sapped the heat out of his back, and its grooves channeled a steady trickle of rainwater onto the floor around them.

Slowly, Spoiler lowered herself to sit beside Robin, tucking her purple cloak beneath her. "I think the coast is clear for now. We should be able to rest for a few minutes before we move on."

He tensed at a sudden noise. Then he recognized it as the sound of Spoiler's stomach. It gurgled with a ferocity that matched his own stomach's hunger. "I don't suppose you have any food, do you," he said, not really asking a question.

Spoiler's mask twitched in a subtle motion he was beginning to recognize as a smile. She did it quite a lot. "Sorry. I haven't gone scrounging in the last day or so. Maybe we can hit a dumpster in a little bit if our head start holds out."

If Robin had possessed the energy, he would have laughed. She had already saved his life, and she didn't look terribly well-fed to begin with, but she was sorry all the same. Robin would have given his left arm for a friend like her in the days before Batman had dragged him out of the slums.

"What keeps you so busy that you don't eat?" he said.

"Oh, the same things that you do, pretty boy," she said, her mask twitching again. "Righting wrongs, fighting crime, derring-do."

It was his turn to smile, though even that took more energy than he would have liked. "So who are you," he asked, "when you aren't doing-dares?"

Her blank lenses tilted in a curious expression. "Who are you?" she countered.

A warm smile, a golden face, and glorious green eyes flashed in Robin's memory. His expression went stony. "I guess that's the big question, isn't it?" he muttered, more to himself than to her.

When he looked up again, he saw Spoiler's waiting look. She didn't press, or repeat the question, but he could tell she was still curious.

"I got into this business for a lot of bad reasons," Robin admitted. "And I got out of it for a lot of selfish ones. I nearly killed...someone I really care about, and it cost me almost a year of my life. So now I pretty much spend every waking moment trying to do better this time."

Spoiler whistled through her mask. "And I thought I was screwed up. You guys really do take the brass ring, don't you? Though I suppose having a house that escaped from an alphabet should have been a dead giveaway."

He thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. "Sounds about right," he agreed.

She shook with a brief, almost musical chuckle. Then she looked up above them and made a small noise of self-admonishment. Pushing herself into a crouch, she jumped straight up and grasped the anchor of the church's bell, perching herself against its drizzling brass side. Her other hand strained up toward the rafters supporting the bell.

That's when Robin noticed the bundled black garbage bag that had been duct taped between two beams. Spoiler tugged the bag free, then dropped with the bag to land in front of Robin.

"What's that?" he asked.

She pulled the bag apart and rummaged inside. Hanging her head, she cursed, and then drew out a handful of the makeshift flashbang explosives she had used on the robotic dog in the tunnels. There were a couple of shivs in the bag as well, their leather-wrapped handles protruding from the tear.

"I couldn't remember if this one had any water in it," she explained, and began refilling the satchel hanging from her shoulder. "Stupid. I should keep water in all of them, but I haven't found enough good bottles."

He watched her carefully arrange the explosives and weapons in her satchel. Then a sudden thought struck him, and he snarled.

Spoiler tensed. Her whole body became whipcord-tense as she looked around. "What? What is it?" she asked softly.

"Equipment caches," Robin moaned, and thumped his head against the stone partition. "Why did I never think of that? Immortus would be rotting in a jail cell right now if I had a communicator."

Spoiler relaxed. If anything, her body language looked sheepish. She wadded up the empty garbage bag and stuck it in the satchel's side pocket. "It's not much," she said. "It's definitely no utility belt. But I try to keep close to something sharp or flammable, just in case."

Robin stopped knocking his head against the stone to watch her settle back next to him. This time she remained crouching instead of seated, as if his outburst had put her on edge. Though the movement of her head was slight, he could tell that she kept scanning the sky outside of the belfry as though she expected something to find them.

"If you don't mind me saying," Robin said, his tone as light and nonthreatening as he could make it, "you seem like you have more practice running than you do fighting."

"I do all right," Spoiler said. Her voice held no wounded pride at his remark. "Maybe I'm not beaming up to the Watchtower or anything, but I have a pretty good track record against muggers and rapists."

His second smile was far shakier and didn't last nearly as long. "I don't doubt it," he said, nodding. "But we didn't come here by accident. You had a specific hiding place in mind before we even met. And I'm betting it's not the only one nearby, or even the only one with its own equipment cache."

Spoiler's body language changed almost imperceptibly. Her weight shifted to the foot furthest from Robin, as though she were thinking of leaping away from him. Her arms opened, no longer hugging her chest in the cold, and her hands rested lightly on her knees. "So?" she said in a too-cautious tone.

Robin tried to keep his face wholly blank. "So the kind of person who knows how to run from trouble doesn't go looking for muggers and rapists. She definitely doesn't help out a super hero in distress. That makes you one big mystery, Spoiler. And I have a thing for mysteries."

"Heh. It figures. The first guy to have a thing for me is so ugly, he needs to wear a mask." Her fingers danced on her kneecaps. She glanced to one side as if she were still considering escape. Eventually, though, she looked back at him, and said, "I'm betting my reasons for getting into all this are as stupid and bad as yours."

"That's a big bet," he said.

"Yeah, well..." She looked down, embarrassed, and forced her hands still by grasping her own legs. "Let's just say I have a big family debt that needs paying. My dad..."

As she trailed off, Robin nodded. He wanted to know more, but he knew better than to push. She looked ready to run as it was, and as much as it galled him, he knew he couldn't survive on his own at the moment. "So, now that we've covered awkward chitchat, what's next?" he asked, trying to sound cheerful.

Half-rising, Spoiler glanced over the partition. "I usually sleep during the day. I like to keep on the move at night. But with this rain, I guess it's dark enough that it doesn't really matter."

"Matter for what?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Anyway, we can move, but the 'where' really depends on you. I'm rescuing you, remember?" The smile crinkles returned to her mask. "So where does my damsel need to go?"

He had been thinking about just that question while Spoiler had been gone. "Even with our head start, I'm betting that metal mutt won't be far behind. We can't outrun it forever. I need to call my team."

"I don't exactly have coverage...or a phone plan...or a phone..." Spoiler said, sounding apologetic.

"Trying a payphone would basically be committing suicide, even if we could find one," he continued. "But I do have some friends in the city who still keep a landline. Ever heard of the Streetbeat?"

To his surprise, Spoiler began to squirm again. "I, um, don't go that way very often."

He had expected her to know of the Streetbeat, the metahuman teenagers who claimed Jump Central as their own territory, protecting other runaway kids and discouraging the local gangs with their powers. But he didn't think anyone on the lighter side of the capes' community, like Spoiler, would have an issue with the Streetbeat. Their old converted church, which they'd nicknamed Sanctuary, had even been receiving a lot of good press in the last six months as an alternative shelter in the middle of the city's worst neighborhoods.

"Is there something wrong?" Robin asked, his mask quirking.

She caught on immediately. Raising her hands, she quickly said, "No, no, nothing like that! We've met before, and we're cool. They even offered me a bed a few times. I just don't like to stay in one place for long, that's all."

He didn't quite believe her, but again, didn't press the issue.

"Besides," she continued, her voice steadying, "Jump Central is a long way from here. It's at least twenty blocks just to the edge of the church kids' territory. That's a lot of ground to cover and not be spotted by your robo-tagalong."

Robin rubbed at his aching legs and nodded. He hated to admit it, but even after resting, he doubted he could make it to Sanctuary, let alone quickly and quietly. If they were attacked anywhere close to Streetbeat territory, it was a good bet they would come running, but by then Robin and Spoiler could already be dead. There was a chance they could run into one of the Streetbeat's irregular patrols, but Robin didn't want to base his survival on chance alone.

"There is someone closer," Spoiler drawled, sounding hesitant. "A couple of friends of mine. Well...acquaintances. We trade food sometimes."

"Food would be good," Robin grunted, ignoring the hollow yowl of his stomach. "Water would be better. But we need a phone."

"I'm pretty sure they could get a signal to your friends if they were up on the moon," Spoiler said. "And their place is only about half a mile away. Think you can make it?"

He pushed onto his feet, still squatting. His chest was a beacon of pain that radiated all the way out to his toes and fingertips. He didn't trust himself to rise on his own, so he steadied himself on the partition. "Meeting your friends could be a big step in our relationship," he said, trying to sound jovial.

Without asking, Spoiler dipped under his arm, allowing him to pull away from the wall. "Compared to the last mess I brought around, I'm sure they're gonna love you," she said. "Now how about we take the stairs this time?"

Just the thought of trying to climb down the side of the building was enough to make him wince. "You know me so well," he groaned.

* * *

A long, low belch rattled out of Rose's throat. She crushed the empty can in one hand and let the flattened aluminum drop to the floor. "Are you sure you dorks don't keep any beer around here?" she asked.

Beast Boy gritted his teeth, fighting to keep his fangs behind his curling lips. "No," he growled. "Now get to it."

"What's the point of living in this freak show frat house if you don't have beer?" Rose said, rolling her eye.

She stepped up to the folding card table and rested her hands on the unfolded map spread out before them. The three Titans stood opposite her across the table. Tek had retracted her armor, albeit begrudgingly. Her fists hung loosely at her sides. Next to her, Bushido kept his hand rested atop the hilt of his sword. Neither of them looked pleased about the would-be Ravager's presence in Ops.

Rose, for her part, didn't seem to care about the glares burning into the top of her snow white crown as she bent over the table. Her finger traced half a dozen red circles drawn on the map. A set of numbers was scrawled next to each circle, a date and time. "These are the attacks?" she said.

"Yes," Tek said tightly. "We've been keeping an eye on the police scanner with our communicators. There hasn't been an attack since—"

Another long belch cut Tek off. "Yeah, I can read, Tin Lizzie. It's been almost a day. Which means that any trail your bird boy left is cold by now."

"Gee, did you figure that out all by yourself?" Beast Boy said snidely. "Why bother looking for Robin when we have the world's greatest detective right here? Y'wanna join up?"

"You couldn't afford me, Critters," Rose told him. Her finger wandered from the site of the last attack, sliding up and down the streets on the map. After several minutes, she tapped three different locations, and said, "Here, here, and here. You're welcome." She stood and folded her arms, grinning smugly.

Tension bunched in Beast Boy's jaw. "Sorry, maybe you're confused. Robin's superpower is being mega-paranoid, not being in three places at once. So, just to recap: you're full of crap, and we're taking you to the police."

Rose snorted. "You don't need to find him, you moron. You just need to find the assholes that are hunting him."

After a beat, Beast Boy retorted, "Huh?"

She sighed and tapped the map again in the same three spots. Her hard glare swept across the table. "If you're hunting a cape like Robin, you're looking at no fewer than three search teams. I'd probably guess five or more considering how completely these guys are schooling you. They won't want to draw attention, so they'll be dressed in plainclothes, and they'll keep a low profile. I'm betting they're using that robot dog to try and drive him toward one of the teams."

"But—" Tek started to protest.

Rose pinched a thumb and forefinger at Tek and made a buzzing sound. "Nnh. No talking. Now, if he got away from them here, there's only so many directions he could go if he wanted to keep out of sight. So if I were hunting him, my search teams would be in one of these areas in…" She pretended to check a watch on her empty wrist. "Forty-five minutes, give or take."

"So, what? Then we beat them up and make them tell us where Robin is?" Tek said.

"No," Bushido interjected, his tone even. "Then we follow Robin's hunters from the shadows. The enemy has thus far demonstrated a worrying capability in locating Robin. If we use this fact to our advantage, we will find Robin and rescue him from their next attack."

Rose tapped her nose and pointed to Bushido. "Kewpie doll for the Egg Roll. Find them, let them find your itty bitty birdie buddy, and you're aces." She tugged at her belt, readjusting the sheathed sabers on her hip, and then touched the hilts at her back to make sure that her cutlasses were in place. "So, if you can just give me a lift over to the harbor, we'll call it square."

Tek folded her arms. The temperature of her glare dropped twenty degrees. "What makes you think you're going anywhere?" she demanded.

Rose's fingertips lingered meaningfully on the hilt of a cutlass. "I think I lived up to my end of the bargain. So I think I'm getting the hell out of here before I get sucked into this Little Rascals nightmare."

"Or," Beast Boy countered, leaning forward over the table, "we don't let you out of our sight until Robin is home safe and sound." White fangs glistened in a toothy smile as he added, "Or we can go with the other option in our little deal."

Her hand remained on the hilt. "You try to haul me in, and I promise you that one of us is gonna wind up in pieces," she said.

A bright blue light flashed behind Tek. Her eyes glistened in the light, becoming narrow slits as she stared down Rose. The armor teased the edge of the aperture on her back, not quite emerging, but ready to do so. "The last time we threw down for real, you ran away," Tek reminded her.

"And you had twice as many eyeballs back then," Beast Boy added.

Slowly, Rose let her hand drop from her weapon. Her gaze hardened into its own sharp edge. "I've got my own score to settle with these guys. So let's just part ways and agree to a rematch the next time we see each other. M'kay?"

Beast Boy's skin began to vibrate, half-shifting out of its usual form. He leaned harder on the table as his hands started spreading to form leonine paws. Then Bushido grasped his shoulder, pulling him back and startling him back into shape.

"Take Tek and proceed downstairs," Bushido said in a low, calm tone. "Rose and I will join you momentarily."

The knitted brows on Beast Boy's face leapt up into his hair. "What?" he said.

Bushido nodded toward the jammed, half-open doors leading out of Ops. "Please," he said.

Tek began to say something, but then hesitated. She had seen that expression on Bushido's face only a handful of times. The swordsman almost always kept his features in a practiced, placid manner. But not now. His expression was hard, and his eyes were narrowed ever so slightly. His face, Tek knew, spoke of grave intentions.

"We'll be close if you need us, Ry," Tek said. She wanted to say more, but she knew better. So she took Beast Boy by the arm and led him out of Ops.

Once the two Titans' footsteps had faded out of earshot, Rose fixed Bushido with a grin. "Oh, I've been waiting for this ever since those dweebs stuck me in that closet," she crowed.

Bushido's expression didn't so much as twitch. "Have you?" he asked.

She leaned forward, spreading her palms flat across the card table. If Bushido were to make a move, her hands were too far from her weapons to even think of countering his attack. Her smile spread. "Those two are soft. Heroic-types. Real suckers. But not you. I've heard stories about you."

"I'm sure you have."

"Ryuko Orsono. Bushido, the Noble Assassin. Anybody in the know pisses their pants at the thought of you coming after them. Word is even dear old daddy hired you to take a poke at the Titans back in their prime, and you came closer than anyone to rubbing them out. Somebody like that could crack even a hard-shelled bitch like me."

Bushido said nothing.

Rose bared her teeth. Her fingers drummed eagerly against the map. "But I've seen the truth. These guys have neutered you. You're nothing but the Titans' pet ninja now. So whatever pathetic intimidation you're about to do, I want you to know that I'll pretend to be afraid, but I'll be laughing on the inside. Do your worst."

Silence ticked between them. Slowly but surely, the smile faded from Rose's face. When her platinum eyebrows dropped into a frown, he walked away from the table. His stride widened and his arms swung as he began to count his paces. He abruptly turned and continued, long-stepping until he reached the wall.

"Uh...hello?" said Rose.

Standing before the empty wall, Bushido let his hand drift across the dark gray alloy. His hand found a hidden switch that triggered an entire panel to swing away from the wall, revealing the door to an enormous safe with an electronic keypad built into it. Bushido coaxed the second door open with a numbered sequence and drew a metal lockbox from inside. The lockbox nearly broke the card table when Bushido returned and set the box before Rose.

As Rose watched Bushido typing another code into a pad on the lockbox, she realized she was holding her breath. She forced herself to breathe normally, and tried to look disinterested. Even so, she could help but suck an excited breath through her teeth as he opened the box.

Bushido drew a single sheet of creased paper from the box and laid it before Rose. The page had five neatly-typed paragraphs, and was headed with the words "This I Vow." At the bottom, a collection of messy signatures had filled the remaining space to the point where they had begun to creep up either side of the margins to fit.

"You must join the Titans," Bushido told her.

Rose stared at him for another moment, unable to summon any words. Then she doubled over, laughing so hard that the edges of her vision grew blurry. She laughed herself empty. Then she gasped and continued to laugh, her forehead nearly touching the paper.

When she looked up through streaming tears, she saw him offering her a pen. The same expectant look remained on his implacable face. "I gotta admit, that's a good one. You're funnier than you look. And that's saying something."

"I'm perfectly serious," Bushido said. The pen didn't budge. "If, as you believe, Slade Wilson is the man who brainwashed you into attacking Robin, then you need their help now more than ever. The Titans are the only ones who have ever faced Slade and won. And if he is out there now, hunting the man who led the Titans to that very victory, you will need their help immediately. Join them, and they will grant you that help."

Rose's grin became a scowl at Slade's name. "Couple things," she said, her voice growing dangerously low. "Number one: I 'know' Slade took my eye. Maybe he's out there now hunting your pal. Maybe he just sold me to whoever is. Don't know, and don't care. Because number two: I don't need help, and I definitely don't need it from the junior Justice League."

Bushido said nothing. Nearly a minute passed.

She threw up her hands. "Why are you even coming to me with this? Don't you morons realize that I don't like you? I'd probably try to kill you even without the brainwashing!"

The pen never moved.

Finally, Rose folded her arms and fixed Bushido with her sharpest glare. "Forget it."

As she turned away, Rose saw a silvery flash on the other side of the table. She started to reach for a sword, but froze when she felt a sharp, sudden pressure on her throat. Bushido had drawn his katana and placed its tip against her carotid artery in one smooth motion.

Then she heard a clack, and saw the pen he had been holding clatter onto the table. The hand that had held it was now the hand that threatened her life.

"If you have heard 'stories' about me," Bushido said in an almost conversational tone, "then you have undoubtedly heard of this sword."

Rose didn't answer. She tried to keep her glare hateful while her heart thundered in her ears.

"No armor can stop it. No blade can match it. In the hands of a skilled warrior, it will guarantee victory."

Slowly, he lowered the tip from Rose's neck. She didn't move for several seconds afterward, merely watching as he laid the sword on the table. His hand lingered on the hilt. His other hand took up the pen again.

"Perhaps we will see if this sword can convince you," Bushido said.

* * *

Robin fought against his own lungs as he sprinted, trading the darkened, stinking alleyway behind him for an almost-identical alley across the street. The pain in his sides had grown steadily since he had managed to get back on his feet. Beneath his ribs, though, was a cold sensation that was beginning to concern him.

As he staggered through the mouth of the alley, Spoiler caught him so that he didn't stagger head-first into a row of plastic garbage bins. "Easy," she said, keeping an arm around his waist to steady him. "Jeez. Aren't you some kind of master acrobat?"

"That was the other guy," he slurred.

"Huh?"

He shook his head, trying to chase away the darkness creeping into his vision. "Nothing," he said.

It felt like cotton stuffing was being packed into his head through his ears. His focus faded in and out, leaving his mouth to wander on its own. The last thing he needed to do was to accidentally blab something that could jeopardize his family in Gotham City.

Slowly, Spoiler eased away from him, letting him catch his breath on his own. She lifted her foot up and watched water drizzle off her boot and back into the puddle that covered the entire alley. "Well, at least we found plenty of water."

The rain had soaked them both the instant they had left the belfry. Spoiler's cloak drooped over her shoulders and stocking mask. Robin's cape was a little more waterproof, but enough had seeped into his collar to soak him from the inside. Worse, he had discovered a whole slew of tiny leaks in his battered combat boots that were soaking up the puddle like a sponge.

"How close?" he wheezed.

"Just one more block," Spoiler promised him. Chagrinned, she added, "For real this time."

At her urging, Robin staggered forward. His hand ran across rusty corrugated metal, and he realized that she was telling the truth. They were standing between two warehouses, neither of which had seen much use or care in the last ten years from the look of them. The few windows not boarded up were just jagged holes surrounded by layers of graffiti.

All except one.

"Up there, on the left," he said, jutting his chin at the warehouse in question. "The one with the trash cans?"

Spoiler shot him a look that might have been surprised underneath her mask. Then she nodded to the warehouse and its small collection of old, crinkled metal trash cans. "Yeah. I'm guessing they bribe one of the local collectors to drive a few blocks out of the way for an unscheduled pickup."

After examining the rest of the building, Robin said, "Maybe they ought to keep the cans inside and break a couple of their windows. The place stands out a little."

Her mask twitched in a smile. "They can take care of themselves. Not everybody needs a superhero watching over them."

"At the moment, I beg to differ," he groaned.

"Har, har," Spoiler retorted. "Just move those lead feet of yours a few more splashes, and we'll—"

She froze. The sodden purple cloak sputtered around her in the wind as she stood there, her whole body stiffening. Slowly, her white goggles turned back over her shoulder, searching the shadows behind them.

Robin leaned against the nearby wall and watched her, trying to ignore the body heat he lost to the rusty metal. He tried to see what she was looking at, but all he saw was empty pavement beneath a broken street light. "What? What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, shit," she whispered. "Oh, shit, shit, shit. I should have known..."

There was mortal terror in her voice. Robin recognized it at once and tried to push off of the wall. "Spoiler, what's wrong?" he said.

She shrank backwards from the empty spot. Her hands fumbled with the latch on her satchel, and she produced two handfuls of her makeshift bombs. "It's too dark. It's...i-it's too dark," she stammered.

Before Robin could ask again, he saw a flicker of movement cross the shadows. Without thinking, he produced his last two birdarangs and began backing away, catching up to Spoiler with just a few steps. A tempered excitement pounded through his veins that chased away his exhaustion, if only for the moment.

"Get ready with those flashbangs. I'll hit it after you..."

He trailed off at the sight of two wide, white eyes opening in the shadows at the other end of the alley. The eyes rose off of the pavement, moving through the darkness with a liquid grace that wasn't human or machine. Robin realized with growing concern that this wasn't the dog that had been hunting him for two days. It was something else, and it made Spoiler terrified.

The eyes darted through shadows toward the two teens. Robin squinted, trying to see what it was they were facing, but the dim light and his rain-streaked lenses made everything else a dark blur. The eyes continued to rise until they loomed high enough to peer into one of the broken windows overhead.

"Spoiler?" Robin said. "What are we dealing with here?"

She fought the quaver in her voice. Softly, choked, she said, "I'll lead it away. I don't want it hurting you."

His eyes narrowed. "Likewise. So let's—"

The eyes surged forward. Robin hurled his birdarangs the same instant he saw Spoiler's hands fly forward. The air in front of them became a curtain of thunder and light. He flinched as the sound hammered his ears, turning his head into a ringing bell.

But the lenses in his mask protected him from the worst of the flare. Through the spots in his vision, he could see the mysterious eyes reeling backwards. His birdarangs were nowhere in sight. He couldn't tell if the snap throws had landed, or if they had even fazed the creature.

As the eyes bobbed to one side, Spoiler turned and started running. She'd already drawn more bombs from her satchel, and nearly hit Robin as she flung them blindly behind her. He lurched on her heels just as the explosions filled the alley with a cacophony of white light. Their shadows stretched endlessly for a single instant, guiding them away from the creature.

Somewhere amidst the piercing howl of his ears, Robin thought he heard something like a yelp of pain behind them. He tilted his head to one side, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature, and instead saw another flicker of movement run through their own shadows as the light faded into the normal winter haze.

Something long and black reached out of the ground and grabbed at Spoiler. She shrieked and leapt, her cloak fluttering just out of the thing's reach. It grew fingers halfway through her jump to try and grasp her, but she landed and jumped again, too quick for the disembodied hand.

As Robin reached for his belt, he saw the white eyes reappear in the pavement. They opened in the shadow of the warehouse and began to rise again. This time, Robin could see that the eyes were suspended in the shadow itself, which pooled up off of the ground into a vague shape. The eyes blinked as the shadow grew two bulges that struggled to shape themselves into arms.

"Robin, no!" Spoiler cried too late.

He hurled the cryo disc, the last of his arsenal, right between the creature's luminous eyes. The disc detonated with a crack and a burst of unnatural cold. This time there was no mistaking the creature's yelp as it arched, its shape flickering with intense cold. The pool of water beneath it crystalized into misshapen ice, and the rain in the air exploded into a blast of hail.

"Now! Hit it now!" Robin shouted. He hoped that, after being stunned by the cryo disc, the creature wouldn't be able to withstand Spoiler's homemade explosives. They could subdue it, or at least drive it off.

Then a tendril of shadow lashed out, and Robin realized that his disc hadn't stunned the creature. The high-tech grenade had enraged it.

Robin might not have dodged the lightning-fast blow even at his best. As sluggish as he was, he took the full brunt of the tendril across his face, pirouetting into the air. Pain blossomed across his face, blurring his vision with tears. He never saw the second blow that hammered him in midair, only a swirl of grays and browns accompanied by an agony in his chest.

Something loud, hard, and metal caught him. He smelled rotting food and chemicals punched his nose. His limbs were tangled in a net of garbage that had spilled from the cans he had scattered with his rough landing. As he tried to lift his head, he found that it weighed a hundred times more than it had. His limbs were just as heavy, and his eyes were beginning to grow dark, ignoring his panicked need to flee, to find Spoiler, to help her against the creature.

"Hey! Over here!" he heard Spoiler scream faintly.

Out of the corner of his fading vision, he saw the cloaked girl waving her arms. In the shadows above Robin, he saw the white eyes turn away from him and narrow upon Spoiler. That same flicker of movement whisked the eyes away in Spoiler's direction as she turned and ran back they way they had come.

He tried to call out to her, but his lips turned numb, consumed by the pain that clung to his face. The sheer effort of trying to speak her name drained the last of him, and Robin fell backwards, surrendering to unconsciousness.

* * *

The heat of reentry faded from her gossamer honor armor as she plunged down through the clouds. She chased the last of the glow out of her clothes by skimming across the choppy surface of the ocean, dipping her fingers into the surf to kick up a tall spray of water behind her. She smiled at the cool sensation and the pungent smell of the seawater.

It was raining, as it always had during the few Earth winters she had experienced. But she didn't mind the rain. After the vacuum of space, the sheer sensual joy of something as innocuous as weather felt glorious. She climbed above the ocean, spreading her arms and letting the wind comb through her hair. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the feeling of the raindrops pelting her skin. The water trickled down the length of her to spray off her toes as a fine mist wake.

When she opened her eyes again, the sight of a familiar tower greeted her at the edge of the world. She grinned at the oddly-shaped building sitting atop the lonely island, so tall against the miniscule city that grew out of the horizon behind it. Putting on a burst of speed, she cut through the rain, soaring toward the tower. Her heart beat faster at the thought of coming home at last.

But when she finally reached it, the tower stood empty. What windows it had were dark, and its doors had been wedged open in a hasty departure. The whole island echoed with an absence that made her feel colder than the rain ever could.

She frowned. On this part of the planet, it was a little after lunchtime. It was possible that they could have gone to the city for mundane reasons, but she doubted it. There were likelier reasons for the tower to be empty.

With a gesture that had grown unfamiliar in the past few months, she drew a canary yellow device from her belt and opened it. She drifted into the air again, letting the arrows on the screen guide her through the rain toward the distant city.

* * *

The green bear's claws slammed against the rooftop, crushing the metal torso caught between. Remnants of the thing's overcoat fluttered from the bear's paws as he reared back. His razor jaws scissored through a neck of flexible polymers and steel rods, severing the thing's head.

Tek lowered her cannons, snuffing their glow. The rooftop of the brownstone apartment they stood on was littered with metal fragments and shreds of brown canvas, the only remnants of the team they had found. The fact that the Titans had found these strange robots exactly where Rose had said they would gave her hope that Robin might still be alive, even though it irritated her to no end at the same time.

Her armor retracted, and she dropped to the roof, instantly soaked in the heavy rain. She accepted her rain slicker from Bushido with a grateful nod. "Nice one, Beast Boy," she said.

Rose rolled her eye as she pushed between Tek and Bushido. She hooked a toe under the severed head and flipped it up into her grasp. "Yeah, yeah. Real nice. Between Bosco here and your heavy metal solo, it's a wonder this thing's friends haven't found us yet. I thought you jerks wanted to avoid notice."

Beast Boy shrank out of his bear skin. "Just get to work," he snapped. Then he winced and dug at his mouth. After a moment, his fingertips plucked out a sliver of bloody metal. "Yeesh. I love me a good robot brawl, but they can be hell on the gums."

A harsh wrenching sound set his teeth back on edge. He glared at Rose, who peeled away the robot's skull and tossed the useless plating aside. She rifled through the exposed components. Then she made a triumphant noise as she pulled a single chip out of the skull. "Gimmie your phone," she said, waving her hand in the Titans' direction.

"It's a communicator," Tek snapped. With a second thought, she added, "Why?"

"If you're going to second-guess every goddamn thing I tell you, then you're going to have to wait for Bats to poop out another new Robin for you," Rose snarled. "Now shut up and gimmie your phone!"

Tek glared icicles as she handed over her communicator. She held onto the device a second longer than necessary, forcing Rose to yank it out of her grasp.

As Rose pulled open the communicator faceplate, she did a double-take at its canary yellow casing. "Wow. I didn't know Playskool made smart phones."

She tossed aside the communicator's casing, ignoring Tek's wince. Then, with her tongue sprouting through her teeth, Rose carefully wiggled the salvaged chip into the communicator's components. As soon as it connected, the device unleashed an ear-splitting shriek that made all of them jerk away.

Rose hissed, mashing buttons on the communicator until it quieted. She checked its display, and laughed. "Check it!" she beamed, showing them the screen.

Bushido leaned forward to squint at the list of tiny numbers. They were almost identical to one another, save for the last few digits. "Coordinates," he said.

"Not just any coordinates, Sweet and Sour," Rose said. "'Converging' coordinates. Shell-head's buddies are on the move. Any bets on who they're chasing?"

The swordsman had his own communicator out in a flash. He checked the coordinates. "They're in Hatton Corners, the old shipping district," he said.

Beast Boy nodded. "Plenty of empty buildings. Means there's plenty of places to hide."

"But nowhere to run," Rose said. She worked at her belt, unhooking the two-toned helmet that bounced on her hip. The helmet settled into place with a _click_ as it latched into her collar.

Beast Boy's eyes narrowed. "Try to remember who's side you're on when we get there."

"Critters, I'm always on the same side," Rose said, her voice made ominous by the resonance in her mask. "My side. If you're smart, that's where you'll be, too."

* * *

Immortus chewed idly on his hamburger as he stared down over the edge of the rooftop. His weight shifted from foot to foot, not impatiently, but in an attempt to keep regular circulation flowing in his legs. He and his trio of robots, all still clad in matching canvas trench coats, had been standing watch over the warehouse across from them long enough that the cold was starting to get to the general.

He swallowed with a grimace, glancing back at the disguised robot that held his open umbrella for him. "Honestly, what's the point of bread and circuses if the food is absolutely wretched?" He scowled at the hamburger, and added, "I would hesitate to feed this to the livestock from which it came. 'Have it my way' indeed."

The robot said nothing.

Shaking his head, he popped the remainder of the burger into his mouth and tossed aside the crumpled wrapper. "Perfectly obedient soldiers that can't appreciate a good joke, and food that tastes the same at either end of the digestive process. The great bloody backward leaps of progress we humans have made..."

The robotic hound at his feet lifted its head and sniffed in the wrapper's direction. It rose from the tar paper rooftop and began trotting after the soggy remainder of Immortus's meal."

Quickly, Immortus produced a small remote from his pocket and aimed it at the dog. The mechanioid yelped as Immortus jabbed buttons on the remote. It quickly returned to the man's feet, its head hung low.

"No, my friend. You have much more wherewithal than your brothers here, which means I need you most of all. After all, you found the boy. It's only fitting you be the one to bring him before me, no?"

The dog stared up at him with its sweeping optic sensor. Its features were molded, so the most expression it could give him was to open its razor jaws and tilt its head.

Sighing again, Immortus gestured for another robot to hand him his coffee. He blew into the plastic cover, sipped, and grimaced even harder. "Three beans and three pounds of sugar," he groused to himself. "Unbelievable."

As he handed the cup back to the robot, the remote control he had used on the dog beeped three times. He drew it again and checked its small LCD display. His clean-shaven face broke into a smile as he tapped several more buttons and pocketed the remote once more.

Two heat signatures were confirmed in the building. His soldiers had swept the perimeter and found three obvious access points to the building: the personnel door in front, the loading dock at the east side, and a makeshift door cut and hidden at the rear of the building. The loading dock were sealed with rusty padlocks that had obviously gone unopened for a long time. The front door was of a heavy steel security model, or a homemade facsimile of one.

"A secret door," Immortus mused aloud, rubbing his chin. "Have you gone to ground in a fortress, my boy? No. You brand your fortresses. This is a bolt-hole, and a poor one at that."

Movement in the street below silenced Immortus. He remained perfectly still, turning his eyes downward, and saw a lanky teenager running through puddles toward the warehouse in question. The boy held his arms over his head in a futile attempt to shield his blazing red hair from the rain. As Immortus watched, the boy fumbled with the personnel door, shouldering it open and slamming it behind him.

"Not one of the boy's soldiers," Immortus noted of the redhead. "Hmm. A tragic casualty, then." Drawing the remote to his mouth, he pressed the command button, and said crisply, "Teams Two and Three, converge on the rear door: containment protocol. Teams Four and Five, maintain perimeter. Do not let anyone pass in or out of the engagement zone."

Then he turned back to his entourage, smirking. "Team One, give the children a reason to run. Breach through the front door."

The instant he finished his command, the three robots leapt from where they stood. They sailed over Immortus's head and landed on the street below with hardly a sound. Moving in unison, they stormed the small door at the front of the warehouse and laid into the metal door.

Immortus smiled as the door refused to budge even after several of the robots' coordinated blows. As he expected, his quarry was already wise to the attack. But the battle had already been won. It was only a matter of time now.

At last, the front door toppled inward, and his troops entered the warehouse. Motioning to the metal dog, Immortus said, "Go. Meet him at the rear door. Crush his neck."

The dog flew from the roof with a speed that made his soldiers slow by comparison. As Immortus watched his hunting dog disappear into the warehouse, he couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. This contest had been little challenge for him, certainly not the epic struggle he had expected from the much-vaunted leader of the Teen Titans. Still, he could hardly bemoan an easy hunt.

And then he saw a green elephant drop out of the sky.

* * *

The pavement cracked like a gunshot beneath Beast Boy's elephantine weight. He felt his knees buckle and give as his stomach hammered the ground, sending a shockwave of pain up through his body to the tip of his trunk. But as fast as his body broke, it fixed itself. Organs grew back and bones knit inside of him fast enough to smother the pain as fast as it had come. A second later, he rose out of his crater.

The same could not be said for the three robots that had been under him when he landed.

Beast Boy shrank back into his former shape and brushed the clinging shrapnel from his chest. He grinned at the other trio of robots. Their coats billowed behind them as they charged the shapeshifter from across the alleyway at inhuman speed.

"God, I love fighting robots," Beast Boy sighed, unperturbed at the oncoming onslaught. "No moral problems..."

Fifty feet from Beast Boy, the robot trio was stopped by a spray of superheated plasma. The bolts sizzled on the ground in front of them, forcing them to stop in their tracks as Tek landed before them. Their reaction was perfect and instant. They fanned out, seeking to come at Tek from all sides at once. It was a sound tactic, but Tek was ready, and spread her hands. Her palms flashed as twin walls of translucent blue energy manifested in front of her. She slammed them into place in time for the robots to bounce off of the force fields.

"Go!" she cried.

A white shape darted from her back, clearing the walls with a short hop. Before Bushido had even landed, one of the robot's heads tumbled free from its neck, severed by the silvery flash of his katana. His sword never stopped moving, and cleaved deep into the chest of the second robot as his weight settled lightly onto the balls of his feet.

Then a whoop split the air, and Rose came sailing off of the nearby rooftop. She gripped her cutlass in both hands, using the force of her fall to drive the blade straight through the fedora of the last robot. The blow knocked her off-balance, making her stumble away as she landed. Her victim belched sparks around the blade stuck in its face. It lurched drunkenly, and then toppled, motionless, to the ground.

"Ha! Suck it!" Rose crowed. "Right where I said they'd be. Did we bet on it? Somebody here has to owe me money."

Beast Boy held a retort on the tip of his tongue when the back of the warehouse began to rattle. A hidden door, little more than a clipped portion of the corrugated metal, began to rattle with the desperate efforts of something on the inside.

Before he could even ask, Rose was already moving toward the door. She drew her saber at a run. Water sprayed from her excited pace, and her heavy breathing whistled through the vents in her helmet. "Hey! Wait!" Beast Boy cried, and started after her.

When the hidden door opened, only Rose had reached it. Beast Boy felt a swell of relief wash over him as he saw the reds and blacks of Robin's uniform emerge from the warehouse. There were rips, tears, cuts, and bruises across every inch of Robin that Beast Boy could see, but the Teen Wonder was still standing. He was still alive.

Then Beast Boy's relief melted into panic as he saw Rose raise her sword to Robin. The shapeshifter didn't waste breath shouting. Instead, he fell upon his hands and became a cheetah, and sprang at her.

For an instant, the world around Beast Boy slowed to a crawl. In the blurry edge of his vision, he saw Tek raising her armored fists, tracing white-hot lines through the rain with her cannons. Bushido stood calmly beside her, his own sword lowered, his expression contemplative. Over Rose's shoulder, Beast Boy could see Robin's worn, mottled face collapse. Robin's perpetually hard expression slackened with some kind of grim acceptance as he watched Rose's sword swinging at him.

"Move!" Rose snarled, exploding into motion.

She grasped Robin's face and threw him to one side. Her saber swept past him, piercing the chest of the metal dog. Its momentum carried it into her, tackling her out of the doorway. She slammed into a deep puddle and skidded to a halt with the thrashing, sparking, screaming dog atop her.

Bushido sprang forward before any of the other Titans could even begin to gawk at the scene. He struck the dog with a single thrust, driving his sword into its side. As the sword tip burst out the opposite side, the dog issued one last whimper, and then sagged. Its sweeping optic grew dark.

Snarling epithets, Rose heaved the dog off of her chest. She looked up to find Bushido's proffered hand waiting for her. Her snarls became grumbles as she took it and allowed him to pull her out of the puddle. "It's little things like having a Tonka truck dog slamming into my tits at eighty miles an hour that make me hate you people," she told him.

"That's fair," he said, nodding.

Hydroplaning, Beast Boy shifted and skidded into Robin, catching the Teen Wonder as he lurched out of the warehouse. Robin fell heavily in his arms, barely able to hold his own head up. "Whoa! Easy, Robin. You still alive?"

"All evidence to the contrary..." Robin mumbled.

Two new shapes hesitated at the hidden doorway as Tek lumbered up to join them. The unfamiliar outlines stepped into the light, revealing a boy and a girl, both teenagers, both dressed in clothing that was whole and clean, but obviously threadbare.

The girl raised her hands as though she were surrendering, and stammered, "H-He'll be okay, I think, but he could probably use a hospital. And I'm, um, Wendy. This is my brother Marvin."

The boy, Marvin, stood in awe of the Teen Titans gathering in front of him. "Wow," he squealed. "Just wow! It's really you! Beast Boy! Tek! Bushido! ...Slade Girl?" he said, confused by the shapely two-toned armor.

Rose pulled the helmet from her head, unleashing a wave of platinum hair that instantly soaked in the rain. "Call me that again," she said, throwing the helmet into his chest, "and you'll be eating through a straw."

He caught the helmet with a rush of breath, stunned. His eyes danced across her high cheekbones, her glittering eye, and her creased, sweeping brows. "Wow," he breathed.

The armored girl rolled her eye. "Ugh. Are we done? We good here?" she groaned.

A loud bang filled the alleyway as if to answer. Beast Boy suddenly found the weighted edges of a net tangling around him. A swift jerk pulled him off his feet and threw him into the watery ground. He yelped as that same force began reeling him backwards.

Without Beast Boy's support, Robin toppled forward. His hands plunged up to the wrists in icy water as he looked up in horror.

Immortus stood behind the Titans and, behind him, three more robots followed. "I suppose I now know what happened to Team Four," he said idly. Then he said to his robots, "Take them."

The lead robot had fired the net now trapping Beast Boy, and was reeling the net back to it via a cable deployed from its arm.

Tek let loose with a tinny howl and charged Immortus. Rose was only half a heartbeat behind her, drawing her spare saber and cutlass to replace the ones she had left in other robots. Glistening steel and flashing heat descended on the salt-and-pepper man, who stood unimpressed by their attack.

The second robot raised its arm. Its palm opened, and a bolt of lightning blazed out, striking Tek with a jagged beam of energy. Tek's howl became a scream as her armor locked. The suit's joints clanged and halted, pitching her forward to land face-first on the pavement. Faint lines of smoke trailed from her helmet's grille, which rang with wracked coughing from within.

Taking a half-step, Immortus brushed aside Rose's downward swing with the tips of his fingers. He ducked under her clumsy follow-up, and parried her stab with a yawn. Kicking lazily, Immortus knocked her foot out from under her and spun her to the ground with a gesture. She landed hard, splashing at his feet. She tried to snarl, but his heel came down on her throat with just enough pressure to smother her voice.

Beast Boy pressed his skin out, refocusing the image of an elephant into his mind. When his body filled the innards of the net, it just stopped. Painful pressure built as he tried to force his way out through sheer growth, but the net refused to budge. Worse, he could feel it retracting around him, growing smaller the closer he was drawn to its wielder. No matter how hard he pressed, the space in the net continued to dwindle.

So he shrank into a fruit fly and tried to buzz through the gaps in the net, only to find that there were no gaps. The filaments of the net were bridged with some clear, elastic material that refused to budge. Beast Boy became a badger and clawed furiously at the net, hoping to cut a hole big enough for him to shift through, but the mesh of the net was too fine, refusing to give his claws any purchase in the material.

Bushido was prepared to advance when he heard a whimper behind him. Glancing back, he saw Marvin and Wendy huddled against the wall. Marvin wrapped himself around his sister, trying to put as much of himself between her and the robots as possible, for whatever protection it would offer her. Reversing his grip on the katana, Bushido placed himself in front of the two teens. He crouched, waiting, his eyes narrowed on Immortus.

Smiling, the general said, "Your friends are certainly persistent. I only wish they could have offered the same challenge you did. Even still, I think it's over. Surrender, and you all may be granted a swift end."

Robin grimaced. With monumental effort, he pushed himself off of his knees, rising shakily from the puddle. It took every ounce of strength he had left to lift his eyes, meeting Immortus's bemused gaze.

"Unless, of course," Immortus added, rubbing his chin, "you have any more tricks in that marvelous belt of yours?"

A column of green fire poured out of the sky, engulfing the robot with the net. The force and heat of the blast drove the robot into the ground in an explosion of steam. When the gout of flame ended, all that remained of the robot was a collection of warped limbs sticking out of a half-melted pile of slag. The cable it had been reeling was severed neatly at the edge of the circular scorch mark in the pavement.

Everyone looked up to see a golden sprite descending through the torrential rain. Steam drifted from her fists, which burned with the same green glow that had annihilated the robot. Her eyes burned with the same power as she turned them on Immortus, their light narrowing into slits as her brows furrowed.

Immortus stared in confusion at the glowing figure in the sky. Then he looked down as Robin began to cackle unsteadily. The Teen Wonder's laughter was haltering, wracked with coughs and ragged breaths. But he fixed Immortus with a mocking grin, and said, "Oh, I'm out of tricks. But I'm nowhere near out of friends."

"If you value your lives, you will leave." Starfire's voice boomed across the entire neighborhood. She descended to hover between the Titans and Immortus's remaining forces. "Now," she added in a snarl.

At the first sight of Starfire, Immortus had frozen. He remained statuesque as she floated before him, the tips of her boots teasing the water. Then he threw his arm forward, drawing breath to call for his soldiers to attack.

By the time the words formed on his lips, Starfire had flung her glowing hands forward. The light in her fists became green bolts that struck the heads from his two remaining robots. Immortus flinched at the explosions, shielding his face from the peppering shrapnel with his arms.

When he could see again, Starfire loomed above him. She grasped the front of his tailored suit and spun, flinging him into the warehouse wall hard enough to dent the metal. He bounced and splashed limply. Blood trickled from a gash in his forehead as he struggled to regain his footing.

Ignoring him, Starfire darted back to Robin's side. She steadied him with a touch and helped him turn to face the dizzy general. Her hands were impossibly warm in the winter storm. He leaned into her without even thinking.

"What the hell took you so long?" he wheezed.

He could feel the light of her dazzling smile against the bruises in his face. "It is wonderful to see you as well," she assured him softly.

Without the robot to control it, the net containing Beast Boy fell aside. He burst forth from the mesh in the guise of a saber-toothed tiger, stalking forward on paws as big as dinner plates to join Robin and Starfire. Seconds after him, Tek clamored back to her feet, her armor begrudgingly rebooted in the wake of the electrical surge. Bushido stepped forward to join them.

The five Teen Titans glared at General Immortus. Plasma repeaters, claws and fangs, swords, and starbolts threatened the staggered man. Drawing himself upright, Robin said, "Surrender, and you'll be granted a tiny, filthy cell in police custody. Unless, of course," he added snidely, "you've got any more robots you'd like to try?"

Immortus started to answer. Then a knife buried itself in his throat. He lurched backwards, his eyes widening as he clutched at the blade. His numb fingers fumbled with the hilt, too slick with his own blood to pull it out.

Gagging, he toppled against the dented wall of the warehouse. His eyes fell still, widening with death. One last breath rattled from the hole in his throat.

Robin gaped at the sudden corpse. He turned to where Rose Wilson stood with her arm extended, her hand emptied of the knife now residing in Immortus's neck. "Finally!" she cried. "You people just don't shut the hell up and get it done, do you?"

Forgetting his exhaustion and his injury, Robin stormed toward Rose, throwing off Starfire's startled hands. "What did you do?" he snarled at the armored girl.

"I killed a guy with a throwing knife. Duh," Rose said. "Do you have any idea how hard that is? Usually I'm lucky if these things even draw blood. I'm freaking awesome!"

His fists trembled, aching to break her jaw. After all the mischief she had caused in Steel City, and the attempted invasion of Jump City with her father's recycled robots, he couldn't believe that he had ever let his guard down around her. Robin vowed to never make that same mistake beginning after he put her face through the nearest wall.

A wet, rasping cough turned his scowl aside. He cried out, flinching, as he saw Immortus's hand twitch. With a jerking motion, the general grasped the hilt of the blade and tore it out of his throat. A brief spray of blood trickled down the front of his suit as Immortus struggled to his feet.

Beast Boy noticed an instant later. The sight frightened him back into his human skin. He squalled, shielding himself with both arms and one leg. "Zombie bad guy! Zombie bad guy!"

"That is...disconcerting," Bushido said. His face blanched.

The knife clattered out of Immortus's hand. He smiled as the slit beneath his chin sealed itself. All that remained of his fatal wound was a smear of blood that the rain washed away in seconds. Clearing his throat, he said, "Well, at least one of you has common sense."

"Right." Rose gritted her teeth and produced another pair of throwing knives. "Once more with feeling," she growled.

When she drew back her arm to throw the knives, Robin slapped them out of her grasp. She whirled on him, matching his grimace with hers. "Stand down," he barked.

"I've got more knives if you're feeling left out," Rose said, the threat obvious in her voice.

With her attention focused on Robin, Rose completely missed the hand that plucked her off the ground by the back of her armor. The two-toned metal twisted like warm butter in Starfire's grasp as she hauled Rose into the air to meet her glowing eyes. "I do not know you, but your colors and your attitude repulse me. You would be wise to offer no further hostility," Starfire said.

Rose drew a fresh dagger, still dangling. "I don't know what strip club you crawled out of, Fat Tits, but I'll be glad to send the coffin there when I'm done with you," she snarled.

Tek's massive hand swept down between the two girls, dropping Rose from Starfire's grasp. Both of their glares snapped over to the suit of armor looming above them. "Hey! Could we maybe focus on the crazed, unkillable robot master over here?" Tek demanded.

Empty pavement waited where Immortus had been. A faint cloud of blood dissipated into the rippling puddle.

"I'm not surprised," Bushido said, shaking his head, "but I'm still upset. I think it's because I would have done the same thing."

A distant wail turned their heads again. Slowly, the sound of sirens faded into the alley. As they looked, they could see dim red and blues flashing in the walls of warehouses far down the street. Tek and Beast Boy shared a worried glance.

"Okay," Robin said, sweeping his cape around him. "Everyone fan out. We need to find Immortus before he can call for reinforcements."

"Im-who-tus?" Beast Boy said.

The shapeshifter started back as Robin pointed to him. "Beast Boy, you and Bushido take the north. Starfire, the south. Tek, take Rose and go east."

"Up yours," Rose said.

He looked back at the burning warehouse. The fires had already reached the high windows to spill up around the awning of the roof. Its former tenants stared wistfully through the door. They had to keep back from the smoke that billowed from the opening. Then they jumped as Robin spoke their names.

"Marvin. Wendy. Start working your way west. And remember, I want them alive. No disintegrations."

"Uh...y-yes sir," Marvin said, and saluted. When Wendy nudged him and fixed him with an incredulous look, he shrugged helplessly.

Nodding, Robin strode forward in the direction of the oncoming sirens. "Good. I'll stay here and coordinate with...I'll..."

His knees suddenly felt cold, and then his hands as well. He blinked, and realized that he had fallen forward.

"I'll...coordinnnnn_nnnnngh_..."

The last thing he remembered was the sound of someone yelling his name before the cold spread to his chest and face.

* * *

When Robin's eyes opened again, they were met with the sight of an uncomfortably familiar ceiling. He groaned at the stiff padding of the biobed and tried to sit up. A cold, wet weight pressed at his face with the force of a hundred tons, refusing to let his head lift from the paper-thin pillow.

A light touch pressed him back onto the bed. Starfire's face appeared above him. Her warm smile beamed down at him as she murmured, "Do not exert yourself. You are safe, Robin."

As he let his head fall back, he realized just how much his body hurt. A thousand aches and pains worked in concert across every inch of him in the wake of the attempt. He decided to take her advice, and grunted, "We made it back to the Tower?"

"We did," Starfire assured him.

She hardly needed to tell him, seeing as how he recognized the small collection of beds and tables that made up the Titans' Medbay. He became aware of the steady, obnoxious beeping of the bed's medical monitors. His vital signs would appear on the monitor mounted on the wall above him even while its noise fed into his mounting headache.

He groaned and groped for the monitor. On his third attempt, he managed to find its switch, silencing it. "You wasted generator power on me? I'm fine."

It was then he noticed the needle taped to his arm. The IV drip fed a line of clear liquid into his forearm. Grunting, he touched at the wetness on his face and found a cold pack settled over his eye.

Starfire lifted the cold pack away, setting it on the equipment table beside the bed, where a fresh, folded uniform waited for Robin. She probed at the tender flesh of his face with her thumb, pressing gently until he hissed. "You are fine now," she told him, "probably because you have been asleep for nearly eighteen hours."

He harrumphed softly. "And I suppose You wasted all that time watching over me too."

He heard a wry note in her voice as she retorted, "Clearly you consider taking care of yourself a waste of time. Lucky for you, I do not."

Cautiously, Robin felt at his own face. The tattered mask was gone again. His eye wouldn't open fully, but he could see out of it. The swelling had gone down considerably. As he spread his inspection to the rest of his body, he found tape already binding his broken ribs, and bandages littered across his skin to cover his cuts and bruises. After nearly a day of sleep, he was still exhausted. It would probably be weeks before he fully recovered.

Sighing, he turned his head to look out the window. Sheets of water still pounded against the glass. "You'd think the rain would have stopped by now," he grumbled.

Starfire smoothed the hair back from his face. "It cannot rain forever," she said sagely.

As she stroked his hair, Robin took in the sight of her. Her skin still shone with the same golden radiance. She still wore the odd collection of deep purple straps strategically placed around her body to keep the bare minimum of her modesty intact. Her hair now reached her ankles, brushing the backs of her thigh-high boots.

"Your eyes..." he whispered.

Starfire blinked her lustrous eyes. Their vibrant color had intensified, obscuring her pupils and her irises so that all that remained of them was a solid, slightly luminescent green. "Oh. Yes, they...changed."

A lot has," he murmured. "I, uh...I don't even know what to say."

She smiled again. "Say 'Welcome home, Koriand'r.' "

He felt a wave of relief sweep through him, banishing anxiety he didn't even know he had. Reach up, he took her hand and pressed it to his unbruised cheek. "Welcome home," he echoed. "I'm glad you came back."

Her eyebrow arched. "Was there ever a doubt?" she asked.

"No," he lied. "But you have amazing timing. Without you, I'm pretty sure we would all have been dead back there."

Starfire frowned. "Robin, who was that man we faced? Why did he seek to destroy our friends? And what was his business with Rose Wilson?"

At Robin's gesture, Starfire helped him to sit up. He swung his feet around with some effort and pushed onto the floor. As the sheet fell away, he realized that the new uniform sitting beside him had been placed there for good reason. He saw Starfire smirk, and had the good manners to turn the slightest bit red as she helped him into his fresh clothes.

"His name is Immortus," Robin said, clipping the black scalloped cape to his shoulders. The weight of it pressed down on him like a thousand pounds, making him reconsider and leave the utility belt on the table. "According to him, he's been around since pretty much the dawn of human history. But that's about all I know, and that's what he told me, so I don't know if I can believe any of it."

"Immortal or not, he does possess a certain...durability," Starfire said.

The both shivered at the memory of the knife his neck.

Robin pressed the mask to his face, feeling the tingle of the material bonding to his skin. He had to stretch one side of the mask to fit the slight swelling over his eye. "There's still a lot of questions," he said.

Starfire nodded. "Yes. Many questions," she agreed.

He opened his mouth, and then hesitated. When he finally figured out what to say, a muffled crash rang through the window, setting him on edge. Robin looked at the blinding waves of rain, and then at Starfire. "That wasn't thunder."

She bit her lip. "Yes, that was one of our many new issues. Allie said she would handle the problem, but..."

He nodded. Pressing a hand to his abdomen, he added, "Let's go. I, uh, need to take care of my own issue anyway."

They left Medbay for the darkened hallways of the Tower. After a less-than-brief stop at the nearest bathroom, Robin begrudgingly let Starfire help him down the stairs. They worked their way to the main hall, which was filled with the half-constructed amenities of their new Rec Room. There were tarps where the painting hadn't been finished, and open sockets where the oven, refrigerator, and entertainment center were supposed to be.

Robin stopped as they came upon two unfamiliar people huddled around something on the floor near the giant double doors of the Tower. As he neared them, he struggled to dredge their names from his memory. "Wendy? Marvin?" he said uncertainly.

They looked up, rising in surprise at the two Titans' approach. "Oh! Hey!" Marvin said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're not dead? That's awesome!"

Wendy offered her brother a scathing look, and then said, "What Marvin means is, we're glad you're okay. And we're grateful for you saving us. Even if you technically endangered our lives in the first place..."

Starfire cleared her throat. "In light of what has happened to their home, we invited Marvin and Wendy to return with us. They may be in further danger from this 'Immortus' individual."

"Er, don't worry," Wendy added, smiling awkwardly as the vein in Robin's forehead throbbed. "We don't plan on staying long. As soon as you tell us it's safe, we'll be happy to go."

Marvin shrugged. "That old place was starting to get musty anyway. We can find someplace way better. I bet they have great dumpsters in Central City."

"Right," Robin drawled. "Well, I—"

As the siblings moved, Robin caught sight of what they had been crouched over. The sight of the metal dog made him leap back and reach for the utility belt he had left in the Medbay. His heart thundered, even as he realized that the mechanical beast was lying prone and motionless on the floor, its side opened up like the hood of a car to reveal a complex array of pistons and circuitry.

"What the hell is that thing doing here?" he snarled.

Marvin grinned. "What, this beauty? It's incredible! At first, we thought it was just another mechanoid, like that creepy guy's creepy robots."

"But when we opened it up," Wendy continued, practically bouncing on her toes, "we found a closed biological support system interconnected with the mechanical aspects of the unit. There's a oxygenating compound being run continuously to a sealed cranial chamber. Do you know what that means?"

"There's an actual living brain sealed up there!" Marvin answered immediately. "It's a fully-integrated cybernetic model. I think we're actually looking at a genuine Walter Smith original!"

Robin shivered at the sight of the dog. He fought to keep his breathing steady, his fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, he thought he would scream at them, or demand that they chuck the machine into the ocean. But he clenched his teeth until the impulse passed, and then said, "Be careful with that thing."

"Absolutely," Wendy said, nodding solemnly.

"Something this special has to be handled with care," added Marvin. "Hey, slight tangent: do you own a cutting torch? And if yes, can I borrow it?"

Another crash resounded from outside, mercifully excusing Robin from berating the people he had unintentionally made homeless. "Excuse me," he said, and stepped around them.

"Rain check on that torch, then," Marvin called after him.

Robin and Starfire wormed through the wedged double doors and stepped into the downpour. As they followed the path around the stone circle, they heard the crash repeat, and followed it down the cliff side to the beach below.

A rusty, barnacle-crusted barge floated just off of shore. Its engines grumbled, belching diesel fumes as it ran its bow at the sand. Before it could gain any speed, a green orca breached from the surf to butt its head against the barge, knocking it off-course.

As the barge cut its engines, spinning lazily in the surf, a figure burst from its control room and began to shake its fists at the orca. Faint snippets of curses rose above the crash of the surf. Robin recognized the language, and the fluttering banner of platinum hair, and realized that it was Rose Wilson at the helm.

Tek stood at the edge of the surf, already dressed for war in her armor. Her feet sank three inches into the soft sand as she leaned forward, cupping her massive hands to her grille. "Hit her again, Gar! She'll give up sooner or later, or she'll run out of gas. I don't care which!"

"What the hell is going on here?" Robin said. He forced a stern look into his face, trying not to tremble from the cold or from his exhaustion.

"Rose drove that eyesore onto our beach earlier this morning and started spouting a bunch of bullshit," Tek said. Her helmet swiveled around, and she added, "Hi, by the way. Glad to see you're okay."

"Thanks. Now let her ashore," Robin said. He could practically see Tek's astonishment through her tinted visor. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he bellowed, "Beast Boy, let her pass!"

The orca rolled its eye toward the shore. If ever a whale had swam sullenly, it was Beast Boy, who beached himself before shrinking back into his scowling normal self. Water drizzled from the cuffs of his blue and black suit as he trudged out of the surf.

With a few minutes of clumsy navigation, Rose Wilson ran her barge ashore. The great flat boat crunched onto the sand next to the gathered Titans, its bow scratched and dented from the previous attempts. A moment later, Rose jumped from the deck and landed in a crouch, facing the Titans.

"I got a boat, bitches!" she crowed. "You like it? Bought an old garbage scow from the scrapyard. I'm not getting stuck here again unless I got my own way out."

"A garbaged garbage boat? It smells like it," Tek complained tinnily. "And I think 'stole' is the word you're looking for, not 'bought.' "

Rose scoffed. "Cash money, Ironsides. Now, whether the money was stolen..."

Robin examined her in silence as she and Tek traded barbs. The black armor she had worn the previous day was gone. Instead, she wore a full, form-fitting suit of scale mail that clinked softly against the rain. A slick blue doublet covered most of the mail, bulging with what Robin guessed was ceramic armor plating. She'd kept her swords and thick combat boots, and wore fingerless gloves with knuckle-plating woven into the fabric. Her eyepatch was a bright white that matched her hair, which she's tied tightly into a ponytail.

"Rose, what are you doing here?" Robin said, interrupting.

She folded her arms and smirked. "I'm on the team," she told him.

Starfire barked a single laugh. "You cannot be serious," she said, and stood behind Robin with hands on hips.

"As a heart attack, Princess," Rose retorted. She reached for her belt, which made all four Titans tense at the ready. But instead of drawing a sword, she pulled a crinkled piece of paper tucked into the belt and unfolded it for them to see. "Boom. Signed, sealed, and delivered."

Beast Boy's voice lowered into a dangerous, almost inhuman growl as he stared at the Titans' Charter in Rose's hands. Even as the rain soaked into the page, it was easy to see the new signature at the bottom. Rose had signed her name larger than anyone else's, her pen strokes crossing through several other names in the process. "Where the hell did you get that?" he snarled.

She shrugged and offered him the page, which he snatched. "The Egg Roll gave it to me. He practically begged me to sign up." Smiling, she patted one of the hilts at her waist, and added, "He even gave me a signing bonus. Looks sweet, huh?"

It was then that the Titans noticed the bleached wooden sheath hanging from Rose's belt. The sword was easy to recognize, but it still took several seconds before they realized that she carried Bushido's katana.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Beast Boy said in soft confusion.

"I told you," Rose said, "your little pal—"

"Take. It. Off." It was Tek's turn to growl. She took a single step forward, looming dangerously over Rose. "NOW."

Rose's hand remained on the katana's hilt as she stepped back, shifting her weight into a readied stance. Her eye narrowed. "Back off, Tin Lizzie! I told you, he gave it to me. Same team now, savvy?"

"You're lying! Ryuko would never—!"

"Go ask him yourself," Rose snapped impatiently.

Tek rattled with fury, her fists shaking at her sides. Then she took to the air in a flash of glowing thrusters, flying up the cliff toward the Tower.

As soon as she had gone, Rose let her hand drift away from the weapon. She straightened, trying to appear casual, but the tension in her body was obvious. "So," she said breezily, "which room is mine?"

Robin stared hard at her, thinking. Between the three of them, they could easily throw Rose back onto her boat. Either Beast Boy or Starfire could simply throw the boat itself if need be. But her appearance raised too many questions for the young detective to simply ignore and punch.

"Let's get this straightened out at the Tower," he said.

They climbed back up the path to the Tower. Beast Boy and Starfire both opted to walk behind Rose. Their self-purported ally didn't seem to mind, and strolled next to Robin, a whistled tune on her lips.

As they entered the Tower, passing a bewildered Marvin and Wendy, Robin held out and expectant hand to Beast Boy. The shapeshifter passed him the drenched piece of paper. Opening it carefully, Robin examined the new signature at the bottom. Rose had not signed her own name, just like the rest of them.

"Is this a joke?" he asked, flashing the signature at her.

Some of the smugness drained from Rose's expression. "Nope. What Slade did to me is the joke, dressing me up like my dead dumbass brother. And I'm the punchline. When he comes after you costumed nut jobs—and believe me, he will—he's gonna find exactly what he created."

Reaching into her belt, Rose drew a long piece of cloth and raised it to her head. It was a bandanna of red and blue, the colors split down the middle. Sewn into the red side of the fabric was a single lens, which fit over her eye as she tied the bandanna over her platinum hair.

When she had finished, she rapped the signature on the sheet, and said, "He'll find Ravager waiting for him."

The venom in her words gave Robin chills. He knew without a doubt that if Slade were still alive, as she believed, this new Ravager would kill him without a second's hesitation.

But her hatred didn't frighten him. It was knowing that he had once felt that hatred for Slade himself. It was having to admit to himself that he had felt it more than once; watching his friends being eaten alive by nanomachines, being pressed to death in a building-sized engine, Robin had felt the overwhelming desire to end Slade's life.

And he had.

He struggled for some kind of response when a shrill scream pierced the air. Robin reacted at once, rushing for the stairs. Beast Boy and Starfire were close behind him as they climbed the Tower. The question of their new recruit, and the recruit herself, was quickly forgotten as they searched for the source of the outcry.

Soft, shuddering breaths soon drew them to the corridor of a middle floor. They found Tek on the floor, huddled against the wall. Her armor was gone, leaving her in her blue and white skin suit. She sat curled up with her face in her knees, her shoulders shaking with muffled sobs.

As Beast Boy rushed to Tek's side, Robin and Starfire moved to the open door across from her. With mounting horror, Robin looked inside. Starfire did the same, and gasped.

Bushido lay on the floor of his room. He wore white slippers and silken white robes belted with a single band of teal fabric. The fabric shimmered, lit only by the single flickering candle perched atop the altar on his wall. The sword stand on the altar was empty save for a sealed white envelope.

The immaculate bamboo floors held a perfect circle of blood beneath the swordsman. He lay curled in a fetal position. His hands were wrapped around something protruding from his stomach, where the white of his robes had been stained pure red. The blood was already soaking into his robes, creeping upwards into the pristine fabric.

His eyes were closed. His face was serene.

**To Be Continued**


	5. Olympus: Goodbye, Hello

_Disclaimer_

**Teen Titans** and all related characters and ideas are the property of DC Comics and Cartoon Network Inc. The following is a work of fan-created fiction intended for entertainment purposes only. Additional information used in creating Teen Titans: Absolution is courtesy of Titans Tower Online.

* * *

"Making yourself comfortable?"

Immortus didn't turn at the sound of the basso voice. Nor did he rise from the rich Corinthian leather of the chair poised at the head of the long conference table. Instead, he cradled his teacup in its matching saucer and considered the view out the window.

"I'm afraid the boardroom isn't my preferred arena," said Immortus. He squinted through the glass, and added, "Is this the tallest building in the city?"

"The Salti Tower and Hoch Plaza are both taller than our building."

Chuckling, Immortus shook his head. He set aside his saucer and stood, walking to the immense window. The tips of his gloves ran across the glass, tracing the lines of the buildings below them. Raindrops trickled against the glass, streaking between the monoliths of steel and concrete, pooling at the base of the window where Immortus could see the scurrying life of Jump City in the street below.

"A pity," Immortus said, resting his palm against the cool glass. "Nothing speaks to power quite like lording it over all you survey. Trite, perhaps, but effective. Time-tested, you might say," he added, smirking.

"We do, in fact, own both of those buildings as well. This building proved the superior location for our needs. We place function above form, 'General.' "

The subtle tone used with his title sharpened Immortus's smirk. He pulled his hand away from the glass, revealing the portion of the horizon he had blocked. Another tower, more distant and far more impressive, stood beyond the edge of the city. The T-shaped structure stood as a guardian over the bay, ever-watching, ever-present.

"Yes, I've seen the 'aesthetics' of you and your partner," Immortus replied, placing the same emphasis on the word as had been placed on his rank. "You might both learn a lesson from your enemies. Young as they are, they seem to have learned the value of form and function both. Their fortress protects them with more than walls and cliffs. It is a symbol."

"One which you insist we must not wipe from the face of the earth," came the surly reply, "despite our ability to do so easily."

Immortus clucked his tongue. "Do so, and you make them martyrs. They would be far more dangerous to you dead than alive in that case. No, my friend. You must defeat this problem before you can eliminate it."

"Yet even you were unable to do so."

It was exactly the dig Immortus had been expecting. He saw his practiced smile reflected in the rainy window as he answered, "Indeed. To their credit, the Titans possess an admirable amount of luck. Perhaps not the most reliable means of victory, but it's as valuable an asset as any other."

"I hardly think you should commend them."

"You should always commend a victorious foe," Immortus chided. "It means they prevailed over a worthy opponent. But a single loss is not the end of the war. We learn from our losses, and prepare for the next battle."

Immortus stared across the cityscape, across the churning waters of the bay, and fancied himself peering through the darkened windows of the Titans' home. The gray alloys that composed the building's frame were all but lost against the overcast sky. Only the reflections cast by windows were visible, making the Tower into a shimmering, shining beacon on the city's horizon.

The folly and fervor of youth were so long lost to Immortus that he could scarcely imagine what took place behind those glistening windows. He knew the thrill of victory, though. The echo of victories past ran through the old general like lightning. It made him smile to think of how such a feeling would make the floors of that tower quake as the Titans celebrated.

* * *

**Teen Titans**

**Absolution**

* * *

**Olympus**: _Goodbye, Hello_

Robin doubled over and dry-heaved into the wastebasket. The metal bin echoed with the sound of his retching. Hot pain rasped at his throat until it went numb. He heaved until the edges of his vision started to go black, and he was forced to gasp for breath.

As he panted, the smell from the wastebasket almost made him choke again. The contents of his stomach had been congealing there since the last two times he had vomited. There was nothing left in his stomach, but that didn't stop it from trying to empty itself again. His stomach worked like a bellows, arching his whole body with pain.

A minute later, his stomach unclenched. His panting slowed, whistling through his nose. The thudding of his heart faded from his ears, and he heard the patter of the constant rain against the windows of the Tower's Medbay again. The world outside was a blurry swirl of gray, with city lights dotting the dark shore across the bay.

He spit into the basket and clambered back onto his feet. His mouth felt slick as he wiped it with his shoulder, smearing a dark streak of saliva on his cape. He shucked his latex gloves and put on a fresh pair, and retrieved a new face mask from the supply cabinet. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the biobed.

A black rubber platform covered the top of the narrow bed. The body lay on the platform beneath a white sheet, the edge of which was pulled back to the waist. A neat, thin pink line bisected the abdomen where Robin had made his incision. The edges of the flesh rested together, freshly closed following the examination. It could have been a seam.

It would be, once he was finished.

A second incision crossed the first. This cut was jagged, crossing the stomach and climbing high up the chest until it struck the ribcage. The edges of the cut were puckered and red. The flesh had inflamed around this first cut, reacting to bile and blood and steel in one final act of protest.

Robin's gloved hand shook, rattling the examination tray. A micro-tablet computer marked with his stylized R waited patiently for him, its screen frozen on its recording app. It was already filled with pictures, x-rays, notes, statistics, and everything else vital that Robin's examination had revealed.

Tapping the tablet's screen, Robin rasped, "Resuming from pause...again. Without access to more specialized equipment, I cannot completely rule out the possibility of mind control. It remains my opinion, however, that there was no invasive psychic influence involved. None of the other Titans have exhibited inexplicable behavior, and there hasn't been any evidence of recent activity by known criminals possessing telepathic ability."

"The note found in the subject's room doesn't provide any answers either. I've made digital copies of the note and have appended them to the case file. The original remains with its...addressee.

"So, without clear indication of a motive, we're left with the facts: the fatal wound was sel..." Robin closed his eyes, fighting back another wave of imaginary bile climbing his throat. "—self-inflicted. The subject died in a matter of minutes if not quicker. The circumstances of the death appear to coincide with the practice of seppuku, minus the inclusion of a second. For all intents and purposes, I have to rule this as a suicide. The body will remain in storage until I prepare it for burial.

He hesitated, and then added, "He asked to be buried next to Raven. Unless we uncover a living will that says otherwise...I can't think of anywhere else he should be. End Case File Three Eight Five."

It was the stillness that unnerved Robin the most.

He had seen bodies before. Anyone growing up in the heart of Gotham City was forced to grow accustomed to the thought of death by sheer necessity. Even before he had donned the red and black costume he now wore, he had seen death. He had stood next to his father in a dank hospital room as the nurse had drawn back a white sheet to reveal his mother, emptied of everything that made her his mother. He had seen bodies sprawled in alleys, strewn behind dumpsters with needles clutched in cold hands. The memories of Joker's smiling, mutilated handiwork still visited his nightmares. In many ways, this body was no different from any other he had seen.

He could read its pale flesh as easily as any other, just as Batman had trained him to do. There were faint white lines crisscrossing the skin, old scars that had faded into the past. Several of the knuckles were crooked from being broken and reset _ad nauseum_. The fingers held thick callouses from gripping hafts and blades. The body was one of a fighter.

But the body was more than that. It was a physical echo of someone that should never have left. It didn't belong on that slab in Medbay. It should have been talking and laughing in the Commons. It should have been weaving through the Training Room with incredible speed, wearing an insufferable smirk. It should be anywhere else, doing anything.

Bushido shouldn't have been on a slab.

He shouldn't have been so still.

As Robin began drawing the sheet over the body, he heard the doors to Medbay being shoved open. Without power, the metal leaves squealed in their housing, complaining at being forced by hand. He saw a flash of green and felt at once relieved and uncomfortable. "Kory."

Starfire wedged herself through the stubborn doors. Her eyes still glowed with the same radiance they had held since her return two days before, turning her gaze into something unearthly, and making it impossible to tell where she was looking. The metallic purple straps she wore glistened in the unsteady light of the winter sky as she crossed Medbay. She stopped several feet short of the biobed, clasping her hands in an unconscious, uncertain gesture.

"I wished to see how you were doing," Starfire said.

Robin started to rub at his face, and then remembered his gloves and thought better of it. The truth was, he was still exhausted from being chased across the city for almost three days straight without food or rest. His muscles ached, and his ribs were on fire after his vomiting hat-trick. He could have flopped onto the nearest free biobed and slept facedown for another whole day.

He wanted to tell her how much he hurt. He wanted to say that doing such a horrible examination twice within months of each other was two times too many. He wanted to tell her how much he had missed her while she was gone, and how sorry he was that she had come back to find him in such a twisted, wrecked state.

"I'm okay," he said, and removed his gloves to toss them in the putrid wastebasket. "Just finishing up here. I'll put everything away, and then go burn this thing," he said, and picked up the wastebasket. At her quizzical look, he held it at arm's length away from them both, and added, "Don't ask. Or smell it."

The red points of her eyebrows descended as her head turned back toward the bed and its half-strewn sheet. "I wish you did not have to do this alone," she said quietly.

He shrugged, ignoring his ribs' protest. "Who else is there?" he said.

Starfire didn't answer. She walked to the opposite side of the bed. Her shadow fell across the bare, split chest on the rubber slab. With a gentle touch, she brushed away stiff, shaggy hair that had slipped over closed eyes.

"We knew so little about him," she murmured, stroking Bushido's hair. "He came to us when I was...away. I never truly understood what compelled him to be here."

Robin pressed his lips into a line, pushing back the old wave of guilt that came with remembering the coma Starfire had endured for almost a year thanks to his berserk super-powered rampage. "He was one of us," Robin said. "He was a Titan. That's enough."

She shook her head. "It should not be enough."

He watched her stroke the pale, puffy cheek, unable to think of any response. After a moment, when her fingertips pulled back, he gripped the handles of the rubber slab, and said, "Come on. I actually could use some help with this part."

Starfire returned his wan smile in kind. Together they lifted the slab from the biobed and carried it to the morgue drawer built into the far wall. The slab slid into the coffin-like chamber, and the hatch closed with the muted _thunk_ of the airtight seal. The wall hummed as the drawer used their precious gas generator power to keep itself cooled.

As they took turns scrubbing their hands in Medbay's sink, Robin said, "Well, that's one job down. Only about eight hundred more today."

"Perhaps I might convince you to take a break," Starfire said. "There is still much you and I should talk about."

Robin winced. "Good talk or bad talk?" he asked, pulling on the black gloves of his uniform.

Her smile became real. "A good talk, I believe."

"Yeah, well, I would love to have a heart-to-heart, Kory," Robin said, and forcibly unclenched his face. "But why don't we take a rain check on it?"

Starfire looked out the window, frowning. "I do not think we need to check at all," she said uncertainly.

He grinned. It surprised him to find how much he had missed simply talking to Starfire about inanities like simple turns of phrase. "It's just an expression," he explained. "I meant we should talk later, when we can sit down together for a while instead of five minutes. We need the computer core operational before we can start the fusion reactor, the HVAC system, and the water pumps. The most heroic accomplishment of my career might be getting Beast Boy an actual shower."

A dazzling smile brightened Starfire's face. She tucked an endlessly long strand of hair behind her ear, twining her fingers through the silken red lock. "Well, if you insist on being productive, I suggest we engage in a collaboration of efforts," she said.

The sly hint in her voice made Robin's heart beat a little faster. "Oh, really?" he said.

As she sauntered forward, the sway of her hips became impossible to miss. She rested a hand on his shoulder. "There is a project I had in mind that would immediately improve our home," she murmured.

The tips of her fingers brushed bare skin at the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Standing so close, Robin felt his head swimming in her floral scent. And between her height, her thigh-high platform boots, and her largely absent costume, he couldn't help but stare at the languid sigh that rose in her chest. "And what's that?" he asked coyly.

"You and I go downstairs, together," Starfire said, "and we force Rose Wilson off of the island."

Robin blinked, jerking back in surprise. "Ravager?"

Starfire's hand dropped as she nodded. "Of course. Understandably, the events of the last day have left us little opportunity. And I suppose we did owe her some small gratitude for her very minor assistance in your rescue," she admitted begrudgingly.

"Uh," Robin drawled.

"But surely enough is enough. We cannot have a child of Slade Wilson living here and pretending to be one of us. And certainly not under the guise of one of our worst enemies!" she insisted, her voice rising. "Robin, she must go. If nothing else, she will be trouble. We hardly need more of that!"

Robin's lips searched uselessly for some kind of response when the floor beneath them rumbled. The windows rattled in their frames, and the cabinets around them chattered as the medical equipment rumbled on their shelves. Southern California had made Robin eminently familiar with earthquakes, and the Tower had experienced more than its fair share of them.

But earthquakes didn't typically happen in short, timed bursts with the exact tempo of "Shave and a Haircut."

With a brief exchanged look, Robin and Starfire ran to the nearest window. Even as Robin prayed and hoped for the opposite, he saw a small speck of yellow in the reddish dirt of the island below, waiting just outside of the Tower's doors. He knew at once what the trouble was. He could only guess how much more trouble was to come.

"Starfire. Window."

A grim recognition was already settling into Starfire's features. She nodded, and lifted a hand to the glass. A pulse of green light flashed from her palm to shatter the window. Rain and wind slapped them in the face, soaking them both almost instantly.

Robin barely waited for the cloud of broken glass to drop before he leapt through the empty window. His hand found his grapple launcher on instinct and sent its hook to the roof of the Tower as he fell. He swung down to the base of the Tower, his cape billowing behind him in the throes of the storm.

He landed in a crouch, mud skidding from his boots in waves as he slid to a halt. He drew the short bar slung on his utility belt and expanded it into a full staff, whirling it at the ready. Beside him, the ground shook with Starfire's landing. Steam trailed from her glowing fists as she and Robin both squared off against the source of the earthquakes.

She stood just a few yards away with her hands in her pockets. Her long golden hair clung to her scalp and splayed across her shoulders, limp in the torrential downpour. The denim jacket and jeans she wore was soaked and dripping, and the thin cotton shirt she had underneath was plastered to her slender frame. The cold must have cut her to the bone, for she shivered, even as she forced a smile onto her face.

"Hey, guys," Terra said, and shrugged herself deeper into her sodden jacket. "Your doorbell was busted."

* * *

Ravager chucked the empty peanut butter jar toward the garbage can. The jar bounced off the rim of the can and rolled underneath a partially-constructed ping pong table. Shrugging, she picked up her stack of sandwiches, carrying the last one in her mouth, and swaggered toward the couch and television.

The Rec Room hadn't been allocated much of the Tower's precious generator power. It was still relying on light through the windows, like most of the other rooms. The refrigerators were unplugged and filled with mostly freeze-dried foods. An old arcade machine stood in the corner, silent and dark, and the foosball table hadn't been finished.

But somehow, the television was alive and blaring commercials across the expansive room. Ravager vaulted the back of the couch. Her scale-mailed leotard _spanged_ against something metal, and she bounced onto the floor, almost losing her stack of sandwiches in the process.

"Oh! Sorry!" Marvin said. He had been crouched on the other side of the sofa, tinkering with robotic dog the Titans had captured. The casing of the mechanoid lay scattered across the floor in pieces. Its wires protruded in bundles in clumps. As Marvin stood, a cluster of loose nuts and bolts rained from the front of his shirt where he'd cupped the loose parts.

Ravager ignored his offered hand and stood up, tearing most of the sandwich out of her mouth. Chewing loudly, she examined the deactivated mess of a robot. "So what's the deal here? You trying to build yourself a best friend?"

"Ha! Yeah, no. I learned my lesson on that one a long time ago," Marvin said. "I'm just looking into our little friend here to see if he has any tech worth salvaging. He's an original Walter Smith cyborg, after all."

"Oh, a Walter Smith. Of course," said Ravager, rolling her eye. She took another bite of sandwich and bent down to peer into the mechanoid's open casing. "So, this is your deal...Martin? Puttering around with giant toaster-dogs?"

Marvin leaned backwards, examining Ravager's form-fitting armor as she examined his handiwork. When she glanced back at him, he nearly lost his balance, staggering back as he tried to regain his cool. "Marvin," he corrected her. "And, uh, yeah. I guess."

"Huh. I kinda figured you and your girlfriend were Junior Titans or something, what with the secret base and all the science shit that got burned down," said Ravager. She finished her sandwich in three wolfish bites, wiping her ballooned cheeks with the back of her gauntlet.

"Ha!" Marvin said again. "Girlfriend? No, no, nooooooo, no, no. No. Wendy's my sister. And we're not Titans, exactly. Or at all, really. We were sort of living in that warehouse."

His eyes were tracking down the lines of Ravager's leotard again when he saw Wendy exit the stairwell. The wiry girl wiped sweat from her brow and tussled her mop of unruly dark hair. "Whew. Bad enough that the plumbing doesn't work around here," she said. "But do they need to keep the chemical toilet on the third—what are you doing?"

Marvin was waving desperately with both hands, mouthing incessant pleas for her to turn back. When Ravager caught sight of the motion and looked back, he jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. "Nothing! Nothing is happening here," he said, and laughed a little too loud.

"Martin was just boring me with his life story," Ravager said, digging into another sandwich. "So you guys are some kind of mad scientists?"

Wendy pursed her lips in thought, and then nodded. "That sounds about right," she chirped. "Public school wasn't really for us, so Marvin and I taught ourselves. And when we ran out of things to read, we kinda just started experimenting with whatever stuff we could find. Biology, chemistry, physics...we do it all."

"B-But it's not just theory or research," Marvin stammered quickly. "I mean, Wendy likes the pure stuff more. But me? I'm the practical type. Ace Number-One engineer!" he said, beaming.

The eyebrow above Ravager's black patch arched. "Yeah," she drawled. "Super."

Idly, Ravager offered her plate toward Wendy, who plucked a sandwich from the stack. When Marvin tried to take one as well, his wrist was slapped back by a heavy gauntlet.

"Thanks. I'm not sure if I ate today or not," Wendy said, tearing into the sandwich. She bent down next to Ravager to examine the innards of the mechanical dog. "Oh, sweet! You got the casing off the core pneumatics. But what are these white flecks? Some kind of metallurgical impurities? Internal micro-sensors?"

Marvin bent down, wedging himself between the two chewing girls to peer into the machine. "Those are crumbs. You're spraying food into our priceless one-of-a-kind cyborg."

"Heh. Whoops." Wendy clamped her lips shut.

Ravager scowled, her head tilting in confusion. She glanced to one side, staring at Marvin, and said, "Is that your hand on my butt?"

Before Marvin could start pleading for his life, the floor rattled in quick succession. The three teens staggered apart, catching themselves on the furniture scattered around them, as the oddly rhythmic earthquake ended.

Wendy blinked. "Two bits?" she said.

A new sound made Wendy jump and cry out. It was a sudden, sizzling _thwmp_ that filtered in through the titanic double doors that led outside.

Marvin began to stammer a question, but was thrown back onto the couch as Ravager shoved the plate of sandwiches into his hands. He landed on the dog's head, wincing as one of the pointed ears jammed into his backside.

"Shut up and stay put," Ravager said. The sabers on her back left their sheathes in one smooth motion. She gave them each an experimental swipe, feeling their perfect balance, and grinned. "It sounds like someone's having fun without me."

Building up speed, Ravager hit the doors at a run, shouldering the seam down their center. The unpowered doors shrieked in protest as they jolted out, opening just far enough for Ravager to barrel through. She lurched into the mud, feeling the rain pelting the top of her two-toned bandanna, and spun in a circle to take in all of the island at once.

Terra became apparent at once. The sodden blonde stood with her arms raised, half her face curtained behind limp hair. A dark scorch mark marred the ground in front of her.

Starfire pulled back her smoking fist, ready to loose another starbolt at a second's notice. She barely turned her head to acknowledge Ravager's arrival to the confrontation. "Do not move!" she bellowed at Terra.

"Uh, yeah. I got that," Terra said. "Also, I didn't move before your little warning shot, so..." She tilted her head at the alien Titan. Her eyebrows shot up, as though she suddenly realized something. "Is that seriously what you're wearing these days, Kory? Wow. And I thought that bikini was bad..."

"Be quiet!" snarled Starfire. Both her fists lifted to brandish glowing bolts at Terra's chest.

Letting her gaze drift to one side, Terra continued, "And who's the Slade fangirl? I mean, I heard you guys were franchising, what with that Steel City bunch, but you can't be that hard-up for recruits."

Ravager whirled her sabers, stalking forward until she stood even with Robin and Starfire. Her teeth gnashed in a dripping, fearsome grin. "So we're carving her apart, right?" she shot sidelong to Robin. "Because I think I really want to stick knives in her until I run out of room."

"Everyone, shut up!" Robin snarled. He squinted, sizing Terra up through the runny lenses of his mask. His eyes swept along the cliff's edge far behind her, looking for her whatever ambush their teammate-turned-traitor had brought to their doorstep. As far as he could see, Terra had come alone and unarmed.

But she couldn't have, because it made no sense. It was stupid. And whatever other faults Terra had, Robin knew she wasn't stupid. She had outsmarted and outfoxed them all, especially him, and at his most paranoid.

His gloves creaked, tightening around his bo staff. He lowered the end to point at Terra, and said, "You've got five words to convince us not to beat you senseless and throw you in a cell."

Terra's icy blue eyes stared through Robin's mask, chilling him with her calm look. She spoke as if she had expected exactly that question, her words calm and her voice matter-of-fact.

"Immortus sent me to kill you," she said. Then she frowned, and added, "Sorry, that was six words. Should I just go?"

* * *

Beast Boy padded into the Rec Room, rubbing fresh sleep from his eyes. His black and blue uniform was rumpled and only half-zipped, probably fresh from a pile on the floor of his room. A nest of wild green hair splayed out as he shook his head.

"What's up with the shaking?" he said through a yawn. He stretched his long arms overhead and felt a couple of satisfying pops in his spine.

Two heads popped up from behind the couch, both with cheeks stuffed and eyes wide.

"No idea," Marvin said around a mouthful. "Something's going on outside. Ravager told us to stay inside, so that's what we're doing."

Wendy nodded, and added, "Hey, no offense, but doesn't this place get invaded or taken over, like, every other week? And I guess without all your hardware working, it's even more likely now than ever." She frowned, chewing thoughtfully. "Marvin, I don't think we realized exactly how bad a decision it was to stay in Titans Tower right now."

"Okay, yeah," Marvin agreed, spraying crumbs. "But in our defense, it sounded really cool at the time."

"And we were homeless," Wendy said, nodding. "'Are' homeless, I guess. You're right. We didn't have all the variables on hand. I guess we can cut ourselves a little slack."

Beast Boy noticed the parted double doors. His ears twitched at the sound of approaching footsteps. Tugging at the zipper of his costume, he strode toward the door, and said, "Stay here."

"But we're already staying here," said Wendy.

"Like Ravager said!" Marvin reiterated.

Groaning, Beast Boy snapped, "Then keep staying here! I'm gonna go see just how much trouble—"

Glowing hands grasped the doors from outside and flung them back, leaving scorch marks in the alloy as they slammed against the sides of the Tower. Starfire stormed through the doorway, her featureless green eyes blazing with fury. A drenched blonde followed her, with Robin and Ravager walking behind her, their weapons drawn and readied.

The scent struck Beast Boy first. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He froze, the muscles in his legs locking, as his mind went blank. He felt himself slipping away into a memory, to a night almost two years before, when he had lain high above the city, suspended beneath a blanket of stars on a thin platform of earth.

The touch of warm flesh running beneath his hand. Silken hair running through his fingers. Hot, hungry lips pressed against his. Whispers tickling his ear with promises and sweet words. The absolute certainty that nothing could ever ruin such a perfect moment.

Terra stood before him, shivering, staring. Her eyes flitted up and down the length of him, widening with appreciation. "Uh...hey," she said.

An inhuman sound split the air. It was a roar so deafening that everyone in the Rec Room clutched at their ears, wincing in pain. The very sound of it sent the primal, panicked urge to run quaking through Terra's legs. It was everything she could do to stay rooted to the spot for fear of being slashed, clubbed, or vaporized by one of her Titan captors.

When she could open her eyes again, Terra saw the source of the roar fling itself at her. It was covered in tufts of green fur, with long black quills protruding from its back. Claws stretched from its overlong fingertips and opposable toes, obsidian daggers that glistened in the dim light. Its stout, cruel jaws were spread in a furious, slavering snarl that revealed piranha-like teeth, which descended around her throat faster than the eye could follow.

Every speck of mud stuck to the Titans' shoes flew into Terra's grasp. The dirt that had been grinded into the old carpet over the course of years shook itself loose and flew to her, like a brown cloud siphoning out of the floors and into her hands. Acting on pure instinct, Terra pressed the dirt between her hands and flung it up into the creature's neck just as she felt the tips of its teeth on either side of her neck. The blow struck with the force of a mac truck, flinging the creature into the high ceiling of the room.

As she scrambled backwards, panting, Terra watched the creature slam into the ceiling. She expected it to fall into a heap on the floor, its throat crushed and its neck snapped. Instead, she saw its claws dig into the metal as though it were putty. It swung down, suspended from its hind claws, quills and fur drifting below it in the chilling winds that spilled through the door.

The misshapen portion of the creature's neck molded itself back into shape. Even at a distance, Terra could hear the crackle of bones re-knitting themselves beneath its skin. She tried to give in to her previous urge, to run out the door and fly away on the nearest boulder she could find. But the empty black eyes of the creature found her, and she froze, too terrified to move. It roared again as it leapt from the ceiling.

Crying out, Terra took what remained of her borrowed dirt and swept it out with a wave of her hands. The brown ball expanded into a wave of solid stone less than a centimeter thick, flying forward with even greater speed than had struck the creature before.

It curled itself into a spiny ball and bowled through the sheet of rock, shattering it into useless pieces. As the remnants of the wall rained down, it landed before Terra, its claws poised to tear her in half with one stroke.

Robin stepped in front of Terra. His bo staff swung out, pressing against the chest of the creature. "Beast Boy!" he snapped. "Stop!"

The creature snarled. It batted at the end of Robin's staff. The Teen Wonder darted the staff around the creature's paw, setting the tip lightly against its chest again.

Flecks of saliva spattered against Robin's face as the creature roared. At first it looked as though the creature were puffing itself up, rising on its hind claws to appear bigger. Only when he watched for a second more did Robin realize that it actually was growing bigger. Muscle compounded upon muscle, and claws and teeth grew longer still. Its black eyes deepened as it stared through Robin to glare at Terra.

"You need to get this under control," Robin said in a low, firm voice. "I am asking you very nicely—once—to stop this and calm down. Do you understand?"

For an endlessly long second, the creature did not move. A low, steady growl rumbled in its chest, so deep that Robin could actually feel the sound vibrating in his ears. He did a silent inventory of his new utility belt, glad that he had restocked it with explosives and cryonics and flash-bangs. It was unlikely that his staff would do much to slow down the monstrosity looming before him.

Then, with a begrudging _chuff_, the creature began to shrink. Quills and fur slithered back into its skin, which manifested a black and blue uniform of unstable molecules. Now back in his humanoid shape, Beast Boy stood with his fists clenched at his sides. The tips of his gloves strained with the shape of claws held barely in check.

Ravager looked back and forth between Terra and Beast Boy. She held her swords low, letting the tips drag against the carpet. "Oh. My. God. That was awesome!" she crowed. "Holy shit, Green Bean! Nobody ever told me you were actually a badass!"

"I want her gone." Beast Boy spat the words at Robin, but he never took his eyes off of Terra. "I want her out of here now, or I will throw her out of here myself, in pieces, straight into the ocean. Now."

Still breathing hard through her nose, Terra tried to sound bored as she said, "Nice to see you too, Gar."

"Now," Beast Boy snarled again.

"Nobody wants her here, Gar—" Robin said.

Shrugging, Ravager said, "I'm kinda cool with it."

"Be silent," Starfire barked.

"—but I think we all need to hear what she has to say," Robin said, speaking slowly and firmly. "So, Rose, why don't you get Tek and meet us in Ops?"

A snort whistled through Ravager's nose. "Uh, because I don't want to?"

Robin's teeth grinded together. Scowling, he said from behind clenched molars, "How about you do it anyway."

Grumbling, Ravager sheathed her sabers on her back and trudged up the steps, leaving behind the unusual standoff.

The center of the standoff started to stuff her hands in her jacket pockets, but then thought better of it, and kept her hands in sight instead. "So, this place has changed. The hall has kind of a lived-in look now. I like it. Is Ops still at the top?"

"Yes." Robin motioned to the stairwell with his bo staff. "I think you remember the way. After you," he said, making the words as uninviting as possible.

"Such a gentleman. You're a lucky girl, Star," Terra said, and followed his staff's directive into the stairwell. She kept her neck tensed, locking her eyes forward, and tried not to shiver at the rumbling growl that followed her all the way up to the top floor.

* * *

The room was in shambles. She had turned the drawers out of her dresser, pitching them against the walls and throwing the dresser onto its side. Her clothes lay forgotten at the baseboards on a bed of splinters and flinders. The nightstand lay in pieces at the foot of the wall-sized window. Pits and chips remained in the armored glass where she had beat the stand against it until the particle board collapsed in her hands. Her mattress lay on the floor, flipped from its bedframe, which had been twisted into an unrecognizable metal shape by enormous hands.

Only the pictures taped to the wall had survived intact. They were printouts of shots taken from the mediocre camera built into the Titans' communicators. The collage papered the wall with moments taken from their time in Titans Compound. There were pictures of Beast Boy sitting upside-down on the couch, a Gamestation controller wedged in his hands. There were shots of Raven glaring from within the shadow of her hood, and many more of Cyborg smiling and laughing. There were even a few of Starfire, dour-faced and grounded from her mysterious return.

But it was the pictures of Bushido that kept Tek in her room.

She lay on the mattress with her knees curled up to her chin, staring at the wall through bloodshot eyes. Each picture brought with it a memory. Each memory connected to another, and then another. Bushido, smiling; it was the way he had smiled at her as he sat beside her on the beach, telling her to forget her past; it was the way he had smiled when she had told him her new name, her real name; it was the smile he had worn as he had called her by her real name for the very first time.

The memories compounded until Tek couldn't take any more. Then she would shut her eyes until the tears stopped again, until she stopped shaking and could breathe again. Until she was empty again. Only then would she open her eyes. And the first thing she would see were the memories collected on her wall.

The knock at her open door didn't stir her. Starfire and Beast Boy had checked on her all through the night. Their words met with deaf ears until finally allowing her to be alone.

"Hey, Heavy Metal," Ravager said, poking her head through the dented, crooked door. "Big Bird says he wants you upstairs for something. I guess it's important, or whatever."

Tek felt her fists balling into the material of her skin suit as she clutched herself harder.

Ravager wedged herself inside the room. Her sheathes clacked against the doorframe, making Tek twitch. "Hey, are you listening? ...or are you dead? This isn't some Romeo and Juliet bullshit, is it? Because—"

"You don't deserve to wear that."

They were the first words Tek had said in over a day, and they stopped Ravager short. Absently, Ravager reached for the bleached wooden hilt of the katana hanging from her belt. The sword's stark whiteness leapt starkly from the dark blues and blacks of Ravager's outfit.

"Is that a fact?" Ravager said, not really asking a question. "Well, Kurosawa, if that's how you feel, why don't you try taking it from me?"

Tek rolled over. Her reddened eyes narrowed. "Because he gave it to you," she said.

Ravager smirked, folding her arms. "How do you know I didn't just kill him and take it? I was pretty badass even before I got your little buddy's sushi knife." She jutted her chin in a challenging gesture of her head. "Take it from me," she said.

"He gave it to you," Tek said. Her hand plunged under the pile of debris that used to be her nightstand and came back with a crumpled sheet of paper. She had read it once, and couldn't bring herself to read it again. But she waved it at Ravager, and snapped, "He told me so. Just like he told me to help you and trust you."

Snorting, Ravager dropped her arms, and said, "Wow. He was an idiot."

Tek's expression grew cold. The paper fell from her hands as she said, "He was wrong. You don't need help, and you don't deserve our trust. You don't deserve to be here at all. You don't deserve to wear that sword. And you'll never be the Titan he was."

At that, Ravager let out a barking laugh. "No shit," she agreed. "But you know what? I don't care. What I do care about is Slade."

"Your big dead dad?" Tek sneered.

"Cute. Keep thinking he's dead. It'll make it that much easier for him to slip a knife in your ribs," Ravager shot back. "And when he does, I'll be there to take his head off. With this." She patted her new katana. "I don't give two shits about this super-creepy super-club you freaks keep out here. If I have to call myself a Titan to stay close enough to catch Slade when he comes for you, then that's what I'll do. If you don't like it, then do something about it. Otherwise, shut the hell up and stay out of my way."

Ravager's fingertips remained on the hilt. She felt a buzz of adrenaline as she watched Tek's face contort, and tensed herself for some reaction. But then Tek sighed and rolled back onto her side, turning her back to the door.

Groaning, Ravager turned and began wedging herself out of the room. "Whatever. I'm gonna see what the deal is with that earthquake bitch up in Ops."

The mattress squeaked as Tek suddenly rolled over, her whole body tensed. "Earthquake?" she said.

"Uh, yeah. Didn't you feel it earlier? Some bottle blonde showed up at your front door and shook everything. Whoever she is, the Green Bean really hates the shit out of her. I thought he was gonna eat her."

Stuck in the half-open door, Ravager saw a bright flash of light from within the room throw her shadow against the hallway wall. As she tried to twist herself around to look back into Tek's room, the door was suddenly torn out of its housing and tossed aside. Ravager fell to the floor and curled on instinct as two enormous metal boots slammed the floor next to her head.

* * *

The glass fogged under Terra's fingertips as she brushed the sight of the stone circle in the yard. From the windows of Ops, the circle was the size of a dime, and hardly visible through the winter storm. Her finger pressed at the lone black headstone, imagining that she was touching the real thing. Though the rain ran against the glass, she already knew what the headstone's inscription was.

"What really happened?" asked Terra.

Silence weighed heavily behind her. She turned away from the glass, and smiled at the tensed weapons still raised between her and her would-be captors. The only one not looking at her was Beast Boy, though she could see tension bundled in his forearms as he stared a hole through the wall.

She smiled. "Come on. The whole world gets roofied, and when we wake up, she's suddenly gone with no explanation. Now I find out her forwarding address is your guys' yard? It was her, wasn't it? She did it."

Robin's empty glare narrowed a fraction of an inch. "You want to change the subject very quickly," he told her.

"Sure," she said. She looked back to the window, trying to hide her smirk.

The doors to Ops burst from their hinges without warning. Tek stormed through the tumbling metal leaves, her helmet scraping against the doorframe. The palms of her armor pulsed with light. The forearms blossomed open, revealing plasma cannons that extended into firing position.

"What is she doing here?" Tek demanded as she stomped toward Terra. Though her weapons weren't raised, the Titan's tinny voice rang with the promise of violence.

"Hey, Tek. We kinda already did this part," Terra called.

Starfire caught Tek's massive arm as it passed her on the way to Terra. Her strength was the only thing that stopped the armor in its tracks. Starfire spoke calmly, but she kept her grip firm, and felt Tek pulling against her that much harder. "Allie, please. Terra claims some knowledge of the enemy we faced yesterday."

"Did I miss the fight?" came a call from the doorway. Ravager tilted her head through the empty frame. "Oh, never mind. What's the deal, Tin Can? Where's the ass-whupping?"

Robin tried to ignore her as Ravager sauntered up to join them. He turned his glare back upon Terra, and said, "Now that everyone's here, why don't you start talking?"

Terra shrugged. "I was kinda hoping for a towel first, but whatever. Are you familiar with a company named Olympus?"

"Olympus Industries," Robin said at once. "Formerly Olymp Technologie, a research and engineering firm based in Cologne."

"They made fragrances?" Tek said.

"Cologne, Germany," Robin clarified. "They had some pretty big breakthroughs in particle physics, and claimed that they were less than five years away from the first Earth-made force field."

Tek looked down at the apertures in her palms. "Oh," she said.

"About two years ago, they went public. A year after that, they went international, setting up firms in Dubai, Tokyo, Cleveland, Cape Town..." Robin's head tilted as he added, "—and six months ago, Jump City. They've expanded their scope to include acquisitions in textile production, mineral interests, and civil engineering, just to name a few of the major expansions they've made. Some people are calling them the new S.T.A.R. Labs," said Robin.

Terra's eyebrow arched. "Wow, look at you. It's like you were trained by the world's greatest detective, or something."

"When a major company moves to my town, I do my homework," Robin said, returning her mocking tone in kind. "Now comes to the part where you connect a seemingly clean company to the bastard who ran me ragged."

When Terra reached for her jacket, Robin tensed, lowering the end of his staff. She shot him an irritated look. But her hand slowed to a crawl as she drew out a sodden manila envelope and handed to him. "Guess who became their new manager of special projects."

Robin tore open the envelope and removed the glossy printout inside. It was a picture. He noted the high angle immediately, and guessed that its shutterbug had used a telephoto lens from one of Jump City's taller rooftops.

The central figure in the picture made his stomach clench. He recognized the salt-and-pepper haircut, the finely tailored suit, and the weathered Mediterranean features pushing out of a revolving glass door. The sign above the door read simply, _Olympus_.

"Immortus," he growled.

"Actually," Terra said with a touch of smugness, "That would be Alexander Baron, Olympus's new Regional Director for Special Projects. As it so happens, one of those 'special' projects was getting rid of the Titans. So he outsourced it to me."

"How much?" Ravager asked.

Terra shrugged with one shoulder. "Two hundred a head."

Ravager whistled. "That's not bad."

"So our new Big Bad has a day job," Tek shot. "So what? Why should that buy you anything? We would have found him eventually, especially if he's living just across the bay."

Robin let the picture fall. Though he set the end of his staff against the floor, he didn't put it away. "She's got a point, Terra. I hope you came here with more than a picture of the man who hired you to kill us."

In answer, Terra jerked her chin toward the envelope. As he looked again, Robin saw a small bulge in the bottom corner of the manila. He tilted the envelope and caught a small memory drive in his palm. It was black, and no bigger than his pinkie's fingernail.

"Y'wanna plug that into your super-duper computer," said Terra. She began to back away from the central window, remembering that it had doubled as a primary display screen in the past.

Robin caught her shoulder and kept her in place. Then he produced the micro-tablet from his utility belt. "We're experiencing technical difficulties at the moment," he said.

She nodded and pursed her lips. "It kinda seemed like you guys were roughing it."

As Robin plugged the drive into his tablet, he was secretly glad that he hadn't been able to unsnarl the Tower's computer issues. His handheld computer lacked any kind of connectivity to prevent tracking or, in the present case, exposing their secrets and files to a possible computer virus.

He felt Starfire's hair brush against him as she craned her neck to see. "What is it?" she asked.

"I do my homework too," Terra said. She folded her arms and watched the Titans gather around Robin's tablet. "And I found a few other projects that 'Mister Baron' is managing at the moment."

* * *

Noah Kuttler sighed into his mug. The coffee rippled, making his reflection dance beneath his nose. Even his fifth cup of the morning couldn't alleviate the boredom pounding in his head. The ribbon of steam rising from his cup fogged his glasses. Grumbling, he set the coffee next to his computer and pushed the lenses up against his forehead and rubbed at his eyes.

His forehead had been expanding for the past several years thanks to genetics and time. Given a few months and an immodest budget, Kuttler could likely have fixed the issue, and made billions in the process. But he wasn't very sentimental about his limp, mousy brown hair. And he hated the notion of dealing with a business. Businesses meant suits and schedules and contracts and endless conversations with dull-witted people who obsessed over suits and schedules and contracts.

As such, Kuttler felt suffocated and languid all at the same time in on the fifteenth floor of the Haney Building, home to his new corporate masters. He looked around the confines of his laboratory and snapped, "Are we ready yet? I don't have all day."

It was a lie, and his staff new it. But they cringed and winced anyway, wary of upsetting their new supervisor. They were lined up in the small observation room, a claustrophobic little closet with a sheet of lead-lined glass separating it from the main lab. Kuttler remained at his desk in the lab, peering over the top of his computer to glare at the caged scientists.

"We're almost ready, Doctor Kuttler," one of the scientists reported through an intercom. "We're just running the final numbers again to make sure everything is perfect."

"Running the... Oh, for Christ's sakes." Kuttler pushed out of his chair and stalked across the lab. He relished the way his team winced as he passed directly between the two large apparatuses they had fussed over for weeks. "How long does it take you to double-check your math?"

With trembling hands, the scientist held up the tablet computer he had been working on before the interruption. Line after line of information scrolled down on the display.

"It takes time for the computer model to process all the information," the scientist reminded him. "The calculations—"

"Show me the variables," Kuttler said impatiently. When the scientist gave him an incredulous look, he glared. Obediently, the scientist reversed his tablet and pressed its screen to the safety glass. "If we rely on your models, the universe will experience heat death before we see any progress. From now on, I'm the only calculator you trust. Understood?"

"Yes, Doctor Kuttler," his assistants responded in unison.

He rolled his eyes. "'Mister' Kuttler," he corrected them. Then he said, "Increase the output of the particle accelerator by twenty-three percent."

"Sir, that's well above the maximum safe level..." The assistant trailed off at Kuttler's annoyed look. "...according to our old, outdated models. Adjusting output now, sir."

As she began entering commands into the observation room's controls, another assistant looked up, his gaze traveling past Kuttler. "Oh! Mister Baron, sir! We weren't expecting you today."

Kuttler turned to see the fit, middle-aged man entering the lab. The heavy door slid shut behind the man, hissing slightly as its airtight seal activated. Like the walls, floor, and ceiling of the room, the door had been reinforced and shielded against any chance of a single particle escaping the room without the scientists' express permission. It did not, however, prevent particles from entering, provided that they had authorization and a keycard.

"I thought I might observe one of today's tests," the man called Baron said lightly. Inclining his head toward Kuttler, he added, "Provided there are no objections, of course."

"Of course not." The words mulled in Kuttler's mouth like a bad aftertaste. He shot his assistants one last look that set them to their tasks, and then stepped close enough to murmur to their visitor without being heard. "General," he said softly.

"Mister Kuttler," Immortus said, equally quiet. His gaze flicked along the length of the mousy man. "I see you took Human Resources' email regarding the dress code to heart."

Kuttler looked down at the Van Halen t-shirt and plaid pajama pants he wore beneath his lab coat. "Progress doesn't care if your socks match," he retorted. "Our progress speaks for itself."

Immortus nodded. He glanced between the lab's two most prominent devices. The first was a long, narrow box elevated on a metal shelf. It featured a readout screen with a series of sliding bars measuring the machine's settings, most of which would be controlled from the observation room. A long aperture extended from the end of the box for nearly a meter.

The aperture was aimed at the second device, a pair of squat, stout metal pillars connected by nearly a dozen cables that snaked across the floor between them. Each pillar, in turn, connected via conduit to a large metal cylinder set against the far wall. The cylinder, as tall as the ceiling, took up an entire corner of the lab, and kept itself isolated with yellow and black caution lines and lightning-marked warning signs.

"The world's smallest particle accelerator," Immortus said, nodding to the box. Turning to the pillars, he said, "And a force field generator that could rival anything in the Justice League's arsenal."

Kuttler snorted. "Calling it a 'force field' is like calling a car a 'go-box.' You know, I'm not even supposed to be working here, Immortus. I'm a big-picture kind of guy! And I was promised—"

As Immortus turned back to Kuttler, the scientist felt his throat go dry. Any trace of mirth had drained from the old general's expression. He didn't scowl. His lip didn't curl. There wasn't so much as a shadow of anger anywhere in his face.

But the look Immortus gave him filled Kuttler with a sense of mortal terror such as he had never felt before.

When Immortus spoke, it was in that same soft voice. "You were promised nothing. You were approached with an opportunity, Mister Kuttler. A chance to prove yourself to our organization. And part of proving yourself is demonstrating your ability to work within an organization and obeying its directives."

Kuttler swallowed hard and stammered, "I'll get a suit."

After a long, long moment, Immortus grinned and clapped Kuttler on the shoulder. "Now, let's proceed, shall we? I'm eager to see the fruits of your labor."

Kuttler scuttled into the observation room. As he procured a set of tinted safety goggles, the same kind his assistants were strapping over their eyes as well, he noticed that Immortus hadn't followed him into the room.

One of his assistants noticed as well, and squeaked into the intercom, "Mister Baron, sir. You'll need to join us in here before the test can proceed."

Polished Italian shoes tiptoed between the snarl of cables and came to rest behind the pair of identical pillars. Immortus turned to stare down the aperture of the particle accelerator. "Hmm? No, thank you. I'd prefer to watch from here."

"But sir—!"

"Consider it motivation," Immortus said amicably. He laced his fingers together at the small of his back and continued to watch the particle accelerator. "Your department is already wildly over-budget and overdue for results. I imagine killing your new director would reflect poorly on your next performance review."

Kuttler saw the general's eyes flit to his for the briefest instant.

"Start the test," Kuttler said.

"Doc...Mister Kuttler, please," one assistant squalled. "This is insane! The models predict—"

"Who is the calculator?" Kuttler snapped.

After only a moment's hesitation, the assistant sat back and resumed entering commands into his board. "You are. Sir."

The machines came to life one by one. Each new machine sang with its own high pitch. In seconds, the sounds had combined into a noise so shrill that it became a presence in the room, a kind of pressure that wormed into either ear and squeezed.

If the noise bothered Immortus, he did not let it show. Likewise, when the pillars before him began to crackle, he made no move to back away. He waited patiently with his hands draped behind his back.

At Kuttler's command, the twin pillars sprang into action. Tendrils of blackish-purple light arced from the bulbous tops of the pillars and clashed in the air just a few feet from Immortus's nose. The light burgeoned, drawing more of itself from the hum of the pillars, and began to expand into a sphere that hovered in the air. When the sphere reached the size of a baseball, Kuttler adjusted the containment parameters, reaching over his assistant to do so. The sphere obeyed and began to flatten itself into a circular plane.

Immortus watched the lab turn purple as the flat of the plane expanded in front of him. It reached the size of a large tabletop before its growth waned. The edges of the undulating light fixed themselves into place, and the light solidified. It became a solid field of a dark lavender color. Its surface was impenetrable to sight, and danced with an almost imperceptible coat of electrical static.

"Begin particle bombardment," Kuttler said. "Allocate additional power to the field as needed."

Though he could not see through the field, Immortus knew immediately when the particle accelerator activated. The field crackled loudly in protest as it was struck by the stream of the other device. A wavering white light pulsed in the field where billions of subatomic impacts struck the wall of energy. The room began to grow hot. Behind Immortus, the metal cylinder's whine pitched even higher, feeding more and more power into the force field's pillars.

The cacophony of whining machines and the crackle of the field were almost enough to keep Immortus from hearing the screams.

He smiled.

* * *

Robin calmly detached the memory drive from his tablet and secured both items in his belt. He didn't need to look at the rest of the Titans to see that they were thinking exactly the same thing.

Tek said it first. "How do we know this is real?" she demanded. "For all we know, you're trying to lead us into a trap. You admitted that Immortus was gonna give you a buttload of money to kill us."

"No offense, Tek, but if I was gonna kill you, I would just wait until you all came home, and then make this island eat the Tower." Terra's mouth twisted in a weak, apologetic smile. "Sorry."

The armored girl lurched forward as if to grab Terra, but Robin threw out his hand. The sound of his palm slapping the armor that held her back, if only just. "She's right, Tek."

"What?" demanded Tek.

"Which doesn't mean it's not a trap," Robin said, raising his voice as he turned to the rest of the Titans. "Maybe Terra's on the level. Maybe she's luring us in so Immortus can capture us.

"But," he continued, "if there's even a chance that Terra is telling the truth, then we need to investigate the situation."

"What!" Tek cried again.

"If we can confirm Immortus's presence, we investigate," Robin said, stressing the first word with as much emphasis as he could. His mask rounded on Terra as he added, "And if not, we hand Terra over to the proper authorities and leave it to them."

Grimacing, Terra said, "I guess I can't really ask for a better deal."

This. Is. BULLSHIT!"

The shout rocked the other Titans back as Tek's armor separated into a thousand slithering components. As the blue and white alloys retracted into her back, they unveiled a red, furious face and burning eyes.

"Have you completely checked out of reality? This is Terra!" Tek snarled, and jabbed a finger at the ex-Titan in question. "She betrayed us! She tried to kill us! Are you seriously telling me that you're about to let in another one of Slade's castoffs?"

"Bitch, what did you call me?" snapped Ravager. She was reaching for a knife when Starfire stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the unarmored girl entirely.

Terra simply folded her arms and waited, silent.

Tears threatened the edges of Tek's eyes. She locked her elbows, throwing her fists down at her sides to try and stop herself from shaking. "Robin, we are drowning here! We can't trust her! Why are we even talking to her?"

"Tek..."

"She doesn't belong here!" Tek shouted.

Robin waited, saying nothing, as Tek fought for breath. As her panting subsided, he said to her in a quiet tone, "Tek, that's enough."

Tek's fists shook as she stared at Robin, waiting for him to say more. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked to the others. Starfire had turned her back to face Ravager. Beast Boy wasn't even looking at her. He stared at the floor, his features sullen.

Finally, she swiped at her cheeks. Her red face hardened into something ugly. "Yeah," she said. "It is."

She stalked out of the room.

The silence didn't last long. "I don't care what you crotch stains decide to do," Ravager said. She eased the knife back into its sheath and then backed away, giving Starfire a sneer and a middle finger. "Any lead that takes me closer to Immortus can take me closer to Slade. If you dorks want on-board, you better tell me quick."

Starfire's smoldering eyes followed Ravager until she disappeared through the door. "Robin, Tek is not wrong," she said. Her glare fell upon Terra. "We cannot trust Terra. Or Rose," she added, grimacing at the name.

The staff in Robin's hand collapsed with a ratcheting sound. He tapped the metal stub against his palm as his brows knit. "Gar," he said, "You haven't weighed in. What do you think?"

Robin watched her from behind blank lenses from the corner of his eye. He watched every move she made, every flicker of her face. He had spent hours studying body language under his mentor and, before that, years learning to read body language from the people he met in his hoodlum life.

It was the only reason he saw Terra hold her breath, just for a second.

Beast Boy didn't lift his head. His eyes danced across the floor. Finally, he said, "What the hell. When we find out she's lying to us, we can just pound Immortus into the ground and then beat her ass too."

That telltale breath rushed silently out of Terra. Robin grunted. "Guys, give us the room for a minute. We'll meet you downstairs."

"Robin," Starfire said reproachfully.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Kory, please. Just for a minute, okay?"

Her chest swelled with a breath that she wanted to throw back in his face. She wanted to shout at him, to berate him for trusting someone who didn't deserve it when it had taken him so long to trust the ones that did. She wanted to accuse him of keeping secrets again, and scream at him for keeping secrets from her again the minute she returned.

She sighed, and left.

Terra's eyes were glued to Beast Boy as he followed Starfire out of Ops. As he turned into the corridor, his gaze met hers. In the instant before he disappeared around the corner, Terra felt her whole body clench into a single knot.

"Okay, Terra," Robin said. "Why?"

The question jolted her attention away from the doorway. "Huh?"

"You've tried to kill us before. This time would have meant a cool, tax-free million," he said, smiling humorlessly, "which I know from experience is better than anything Slade offered you. So why are you here? What do you want from all of this?"

She hugged her chest, her eyes trailing to the floor. After a moment, she answered, "I want back in."

Robin said nothing. He didn't move a muscle.

"I'm serious," she said, her voice shrinking. "After you...I mean, after Slade died, I had nothing. I tried to go back to my old life, just wandering around and doing whatever I wanted. Except, the longer I was away..."

Terra turned to the window. She leaned her shoulder against the glass and sighed wistfully, running her hand down the pane as she looked out over the island.

"The longer I was away," she said, "the more I realized that all I wanted was to come back. I wanted things to be the way they were before."

"Before you betrayed us," Robin said evenly.

She rounded on him with a glare. Then her expression softened. "Yes," she said. "I know I did wrong by all of you, and I want to make up for that. This thing with Immortus won't fix everything, I know, but it's a start."

Robin watched her carefully. As time ticked by without his answer, Terra began to tremble. Her eyes shimmered with tears, and her teeth gnashed at her lower lip. She seemed on the verge of a genuine breakdown.

"Tim..." she said shakily. "Haven't you ever needed a second chance?"

* * *

A pall hung over the Rec Room, broken only by the soft crunching of hard pretzels.

Marvin dug his hand through the bag and popped another pretzel into his mouth. He sat perched on the arm of the couch, watching his superhero idols lurking in opposite corners of the room. "What do you think is going on?" he hissed sidelong at Wendy.

Kneeling on the couch between pieces of their cybernetic autopsy, Wendy hissed back, "I don't know. They seem really pissed off that Terra came back."

"Guess that means she really did help wreck the city. Wild."

Wendy dug into his bag and crunched on a handful of pretzels. "Do you think they're going to fight? What are we supposed to do if that happens?"

"I call dibs on hiding under the pool table," Marvin answered.

Beast Boy's ears twitched. He heard the entire conversation from across the room. In any other moment, he would have cracked a joke to ease the tension. But he couldn't think of anything funny at the moment.

A golden hand rested on his shoulder. "Gar," Starfire murmured, "it will be all right. Robin will not let Terra cause any more harm."

He heard the unspoken end of her sentence: _to you_. "I'm fine, Kory," he grumbled.

She smiled and squeezed his arm. "It is my experience that humans feel the most bad whenever they insist that they are 'fine.' "

Beast Boy shot an irritated look back at her. "I think I liked you better when you didn't know anything," he said. But his grimace lessened, and he laid his hand atop hers. "Thanks."

"Oh my God!" came Ravager's cry from across the room. She leaned against the side of the refrigerator, thumping the back of her bandanna'd head against it in impatience. "I can literally feel myself dying of boredom here. What the hell is taking so long?"

"Just hashing out a few details," Robin said as he emerged from the stairwell. "So, unless you're too busy dying, we have some work to do."

Starfire brightened. Then she felt her whole body tense as she saw Terra follow Robin out of the stairwell. She had expected that Robin would secure her, at least until they could verify her outlandish story. The idea that he would turn his back on her, even for a second, horrified Starfire.

As if sensing Starfire's silent outcry, Robin said, "We're going to investigate Olympus. Quietly. Terra has agreed to get us into to the building—"

"WHAT?"

The shout rose from Starfire and Beast Boy at the same time. They surged forward, shoulder to shoulder, clamoring at Robin as Terra stepped to put the Teen Wonder between them and her.

"We cannot allow her to—" Starfire insisted.

"I'm not going anywhere with—" roared Beast Boy.

Robin held up his hands. "Easy! It was one of the...details. We can talk about the rest of them later. Right now, we—"

"But—"

"Right now," he said firmly, his eyes narrowing, "we need to focus on the job. We're going to need some civvies. Uh, Ravager, I guess you'll need to borrow something from Tek or Starfire."

Ravager snorted. "It'll have to be the Tuna Can, unless the Princess would care to loan me some of her silicone to go with the outfit."

Starfire started to retort, but stopped as she saw Tek leave the stairwell. The petite Titan was without her armor, and walked with her eyes dragging on the ground. A large duffel bag hung over one of her shoulders, its weight creasing the thin material of her skin suit. Half a shirt fluttered from the end of the bag's zipper, which had obviously been closed in haste.

"Allie?" Starfire said. "What is this?"

"I'm gonna go find Vic," Tek said.

Robin frowned, and strode quickly to put himself in Tek's path. The sight of his boots made her lift her head and scowl in kind as he said, "Allie, hold on a minute."

"No," she said. She stepped toward Robin, letting her duffel slip to the floor as she straightened. Her voice rose as she snapped, "I'm not sticking around to watch you ruin everything we've worked for by bringing THAT..."

She pointed to Terra.

"—and THAT..."

She pointed to Ravager.

"—into our home."

As calmly as he could, Robin said, "Allie, it's more complicated than—"

"No, it's pretty simple," she shot back. "Ryuko isn't dead for even a day, and you decide to replace him with whatever garbage washes up on the shore. I won't let you do that to him or to me."

"Allie—"

As he stepped forward to clasp her shoulder, Tek shoved him with both hands. Robin stumbled back, his mask widening with shock.

"You're an idiot," Tek snarled. Her cheeks glistened with furious tears. "I'm gonna go find Vic. Our real leader. And when we come back, we're gonna get rid of everything in this Tower that doesn't belong."

Robin heard a note of desperation slip into his own voice as he said, "Tek, please don't go. We need you."

Her lips quivered. "Starting with you," she told him.

Blue-white light erupted from her back. In an instant, Tek was incased in her armor. Her scowling visor loomed over Robin. For a moment, he wondered if she would simply stomp on him and scrape his remains onto the throw rug.

Instead, she leaned down and grasped her duffel. Her fist wrapped around the bulging bag and lifted it with ease. Then she stomped through the doors, letting Robin scramble out of her way lest he get crushed. Her thrusters flashed as she took to the air in total silence.

Robin watched the white dot vanish into the clouds. Somewhere inside of him, a tiny ember of doubt began to wonder if Tek wasn't completely right.

Then he quashed the ember. When he turned back to the rest of the Titans, his face had hardened once more. "Okay," he said. "Let's get to work."

Silence answered him. Then, crunching.

"This place is so cool," Marvin whispered to his sister through a mouthful of pretzel.

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	6. Olympus: Persona Non Grata

**Teen Titans**

**Absolution**

* * *

**Olympus**: _Persona Non Grata_

"So, help yourself to whatever's in the fridge," Beast Boy said. His uniform was soaked the instant he stepped outside. Streaks of wet green hair clung to his forehead. "You've got the run of the place until we get back."

Marvin and Wendy looked back through the open doors of the Tower. The entirety of the Commons loomed dark and silent behind them. The only company to be seen was their salvaged find, the mechanical dog that had hunted Robin across the city. It still lay opened and deactivated on the couch, its components spilling out of it. Just outside the door's edge, the rain pelted the muddy ground.

Uncertainly, Wendy said, "We'll try not to go too crazy..."

"Unless a supervillain attacks," Marvin added. "Then it'll probably get pretty crazy."

Starfire forced her mouth into what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She rested her hand on Wendy's shoulder, and said, "You will be safe in the Tower. Any villains that have called on our home in the past have all been looking for us, and not the building itself."

"So unless you two have your own personal bad guys, you're golden," said Beast Boy. He mimed finger pistols and winked.

The twins seemed to genuinely consider Beast Boy's joke. After a moment, Wendy drawled, "Mmmmmmmmnnno, no nemeses...at least not one with a boat."

"Awesome. See ya," chirped Beast Boy.

Starfire followed him down the path to the cliff's edge. The instant he had turned away from their two guests, Beast Boy's features slumped back into a miserable fury. It was the expression he had worn since the tumultuous events of the morning, and Starfire didn't expect it to leave until Terra did.

Tugging at the collar of her plastic yellow raincoat, Starfire said quietly, "I would feel much better about leaving our new friends in the Tower if it were more functional."

A sharp breath jetted from Beast Boy's nose. "Yeah, well, disappointment is kinda the flavor of the month around here," he said.

It was impossible to miss him flinching as they passed Raven's headstone.

Starfire bit her lip. She wanted to tell him that she understood how he felt. She wanted to tell him how hard it had been for her to return to Earth knowing that Raven would not be there. Starfire knew what it meant to lose someone you loved, and Raven's death felt too much like the stabbing emptiness she had felt when the Gordanians had torn her from her family.

But she knew Beast Boy didn't want to hear any of it. He didn't want her understanding or her empathy. He wanted the person he had loved to come back. He wanted to feel whole again, and Starfire couldn't give that to him. She could only feel broken with him, and that wasn't enough for Beast Boy. Not yet.

As they reached the cliffs, Starfire checked her communicator again. "Robin and the others have been in position for nearly an hour. Are you prepared for our part in his scheme?"

"Let's rock and roll," he said dryly.

Starfire rose into the sky. Her hair became a wet red whip that cracked with her every sharp turn. Beside her, a green sparrow struggled against the wind and rain to keep up with her as she led the way across the stormy waters of the bay.

It only took minutes before the wordless flight began to weigh on Starfire. "Even for Robin, this is a most unusual plan," she said. "I am not fully convinced it was wise for him to go alone with Rose Wilson. I would feel much better if Allie..."

She trailed off. Tek's sudden and furious departure had left her stunned. Starfire had wanted to chase after her, but Robin had stopped her. He claimed that she needed time to 'cool off,' but Starfire didn't think so. No amount of temperature differential would soothe Tek's anger. She was in deep mourning for Bushido's death. It didn't help that a new Ravager had appeared just in time to inexplicably be granted his sword.

Her face twisted as she said the name aloud again. "Rose Wilson. We must watch her closely, Gar. I do not know what Robin is thinking in allowing her to stay, but we cannot trust one such as her." Her fingers curled into fists, her knuckles cracking like gunshots.

He gave no reply.

Sudden realization made Starfire's heart drop into her stomach. "Um, and of course we shall take extra care around Tara," she added quickly. "She betrayed us once before, but we will not be fooled twice."

Still, no reply.

Soon the ocean gave way to the streets and buildings of Jump City. Rivers flowed where the gutters and storm drains had been overwhelmed, leaving some cars to ford through almost two inches of rain. As the two Titans flew through the heart of the city, they saw the quiet hubbub of a Sunday afternoon behind dull, rain-streaked glass. Most windows were dark, and most of the streets, empty. Almost everyone had found shelter elsewhere from the misery of the winter.

And then she saw it. The skyscraper rose before them, twice as tall as the buildings around it. She watched her reflection shimmer in the windows, a streak of yellow trailing a banner of red. If Terra was to be believed, the man who would have them killed was inside at that moment.

It would have taken just a gesture for Starfire to blast open the side of the building, shattering glass and twisting girders floor by floor until she ferreted out the vicious self-ascribed general.

Instead she clenched her fists harder, smothering the fire that was already blossoming in her palms. "This should be close enough," she said to Beast Boy. "You should get into position."

When she turned to look, the green sparrow was gone.

"Ah," she said.

The tips of her galoshes pointed streetward as she descended. A moment later she splashed down on the sidewalk across from the gray skyscraper. The few pedestrians who braved the storm startled back from the ripples she sent through the puddle. She gave them a pleasant smile, and then splashed delicately to the nearest awning and the double doors of a small, upscale café.

Pushing through the doors, Starfire entered to find a charming cluster of tables dressed in crisp white cloth, each with a tea candle and waiting silverware sitting atop it. It was warm inside, which had filled most of the tables with men and women wearing wet business attire. Wait staff bustled between the tables, marked by their white shirts and black aprons.

The soft conversations scattered throughout the café stopped at the sight of Starfire. They stared openly at the girl with the glowing eyes, who waited patiently for several minutes before one of the waiters found the courage to approach her.

"Hello," she said, beaming at him. She shrugged out of her yellow slicker, careful not to get her sweater or her pleated skirt wet. "I would like a table, please."

* * *

"_This is never gonna work._"

Robin gritted his teeth at the voice in his ear. "Keep your eye open and your mouth shut, Ravager," he snapped, trusting his Bluetooth headset to convey the full venom in his voice.

The mouth of the alley was flooded up to the tops of his sneakers, soaking through his socks. Likewise his cotton T-shirt and jeans were completely waterlogged. The black leather jacket he wore was a poor substitute for his cape.

He had seen Starfire enter the café from where he stood nearly two blocks down the street. If he tried, he could spot her through the café's windows, her brilliant hair and eyes making her hard to miss. But instead he kept focused on the supposed emptiness of the street.

His eyes flitted behind a pair of wraparound sunglasses. "Off-duty cab parked across the street," he said to the empty air. "The derelict panhandling one block west. And the guy wearing the bowtie sitting three seats down from Starfire in the restaurant."

The headset piped up with Terra's voice, crackling through their cheap burner cell phones. "_There's a couple of sandwich slingers at the Subway opposite the south side of the building who are touching their ears all of a sudden. Doesn't seem very sanitary._"

"_I don't..._" Ravager's voice trailed off. Then she swore. "_The security desk is going nuts. Looks like the guy on the phone is getting screamed at right now,_" she said.

Robin grinned. "Guess that means I was right about their extra security. Either that, or Starfire's just that good at turning heads."

As Ravager responded with an indelicate suggestion, Terra said, "_Which means I was right about Immortus and his shadiness being all up in the building. Right?_"

His smile faded. "It means a major international firm is interested in protecting itself from prying eyes." The hesitation in his voice was obvious even to him. "But that is a little excessive, even for a Fortune Five Hundred."

"_Enough to warrant a little B and E?_" Ravager asked, her tone hopeful.

"_Rendezvous by the loading dock on the east side,_" he said. "_We'll breach from there._"

"Breach?" a voice said from behind him.

Robin whirled, his hand diving into his jacket, and saw Spoiler crouched on top of the closed dumpster set against the alley's wall. Her makeshift purple cloak pooled around her, wet and heavy, the hood drooping over the white goggles of her full face mask. Her fingers nervously teased the flap of her purple messenger bag as though she might draw and fling one of the flash pellets he knew she was carrying.

Her head tilted curiously. "That sounds ominous. And vaguely illegal," she said. "Don't tell me you're flipping teams now, Robin. I'd hate to have to kick your ass."

Sighing, Robin let his hand drop. "Spoiler. How did you know it was me?"

She let the flap of her bag drop, relaxing slightly. "Please," she scoffed. "I could tell it was you from three hundred yards away. When you've trained in the ancient arts like I have, you can read a person's body language like most people read the Daily Planet crossword puzzle."

He frowned. "Seriously?"

"No." He could hear the smile behind her mask. "But when I got up close, I could see the killer bruise under those sunglasses, and I asked myself, 'how many other cute brunettes would stand out in the rain plotting felonies with themselves?' Also I suck at crosswords."

Robin touched his face. The memory of his last parting with Spoiler rushed back to him, when they had stood in a similar alley down in Hatton Corners, facing something big, dark, and brutally strong. The monster's manifold tentacles had made short work of Robin, clocking him across the face with the force of a sledgehammer. It had only been Spoiler's quick thinking and quicker retreat that had saved his life. But then, it had been looking for her in the first place, or so she had told him.

She interrupted his thoughts by splashing down off of the dumpster's lid. "So what's with the new look? Did Milan say capes were dead?"

"Sundays are casual dress day," he said. "Aren't you out late? I thought you were a night owl."

Pointing up into the rain, Spoiler said, "It's too dark to matter. Again. Gotta keep on the move. It's not the first time I've pulled an all-nighter...so to speak."

He frowned. "Keep on the move. So that 'thing' doesn't get you."

Spoiler glanced aside. She began to fiddle with the flap on her bag again.

"Spoiler, what was that thing?" Robin said. He took half a step forward, but then stopped when he saw her jerk backwards. Easing back, he said, "Look, I deal with a lot of weirdness in my job, and that whatever-it-was chasing you raises a lot of red flags even in my book."

Turning, she looked back down the other direction of the alley. "Yeah, so I should probably go. I'm sure there's a wet mugger out there who needs a boot to the face."

As she took a step to leave, Robin called out, "Wait!"

She hesitated, and then stopped. All Robin could see of her was the back of her hood and cloak.

More softly, Robin said, "Maybe I don't know what you're dealing with. Maybe you don't want to tell me. But you don't have to deal with it alone. We can help."

He saw her clench her fist. Her feet shifted uncomfortably.

Robin smiled wanly. "The Teen Titans have all kinds of screwed-up baggage. It's kind of our theme. You'd fit right in."

Spoiler looked back over her shoulder. Her unreadable gaze met his. Then she murmured, "I'll think about it."

She ran down the alley and disappeared around the corner.

The breath he had been holding left him in a sigh. As much as he wished he could, he knew he couldn't force Spoiler into the Titans any more than social workers had been able to force a much younger Tim Drake into foster homes when his father had disappeared for months at a time. She had to decide for herself if the prospect of a home and a team was worth the risk of giving them her trust.

He remembered being just as hesitant to take that same risk when he'd first come to Jump City. And even though he'd never regretted that first step, Robin couldn't begrudge Spoiler for being reluctant to take it for herself.

He shrugged himself deeper into his jacket and slipped into the sparse foot traffic on the sidewalk. Then it occurred to him that he was several minutes behind his own timetable, and so he quickened his pace to meet with the Titans' former traitor and former enemy.

As he rounded the base of the skyscraper, he spied the loading dock. It was situated down a side street that was tucked away from the traffic of the main drag, which meant that trucks would have an easier time of pulling in and out. It also left the street empty of prying eyes, especially so late into the weekend.

Drawing a micro-tablet from his pocket, Robin began to surf for errant wireless signals. It found a signal, and when Robin connected he found a large network of black-and-white video streams. He scrolled through each stream with a sweep of his thumb until he found the image of the outside of the loading dock.

Scrolling back the other way, Robin ran through what he guessed was the lobby's security feed; he could see video for the first three floors of the building, but nothing more. The upper levels, where Olympus housed its actual offices, weren't part of this network. Their security would undoubtedly be more robust than a single password.

As his thumbs crisscrossed the tablet, Terra appeared at the other end of the street. The blue sundress she had borrowed from Tek sagged at the hem where her umbrella couldn't protect her. A plain backpack hung heavily from her shoulders, ruining the lines of the cheery dress. She looked as cold and miserable as Robin felt.

He gestured for her to stop at the far side of the loading dock. A moment later, after he had finished issuing commands to his tablet, he motioned her forward, and moved to join her at the cement lip of the dock.

Terra hugged her chest, keeping the umbrella handle tucked in her elbow. "Can we speed this up?" she said. Her teeth chattered.

Robin pocketed the tablet. "No rush. The lobby desk is watching a looped repeat of the loading dock, which means they'll see a lot of nothing until I say otherwise."

"You're incredible," she sneered, shivering. "Can we speed this up?"

He was about to retort when Ravager jogged around the corner. The end of her heavy canvas trench coat skimmed the tops of puddles, which soaked into the cuffs of her oversized jeans. A Gotham Knights baseball cap and a pair of Ray-Bans hid her white eye patch from casual view.

"Can we speed this up?" Ravager snapped. "I'm freezing my tits off out here. And your underwear isn't doing me any favors downstairs either."

Robin suddenly recognized her clothes as his own, the pants belted tightly around her slender waist. He groaned as he massaged the bridge of his nose and said, "...why?"

She bounced from foot to foot in a vain attempt to keep warm. "The Tin Lizzie is a midget. Nothing she had would come close to fitting me. And I would rather shoot myself than steal something from the Princess's closet."

He assumed that Starfire felt exactly the same way, and wisely said nothing. Instead he jumped up onto the dock to examine the enormous rolling door. It was closed and locked with a keypad mounted on the outside of its frame. "Just keep a lookout while I—"

Small hands reached past him with a screwdriver. Robin stepped aside, surprised to see Terra pulling apart the keypad to expose the circuit board. "I got it. Gimmie a minute."

He gave her an odd look, but stepped around her to block her from street view while she worked. Minutes later, she clicked the keypad back together. Terra must have noticed his odd look, because she smiled and said, "Slade taught me other things besides how much of an absolute bastard he was, you know."

"I guess I never got past that lesson," Robin said.

Ravager snorted. "Whoop-dee-shit for Team Slade Loves Me." Glancing at Robin, she added, "Though I've got to admit, I'm surprised you're so down to commit a felony, Bird Boy."

He couldn't help but snort. "Back in Gotham, this kind of stuff is the next best thing to knocking. Besides, I don't plan on being caught just yet."

"Yeah, because nobody will be around to spot us in a big, expensive building where, like, umpteen different businesses live," retorted Ravager.

"Twelve businesses," Robin said. "And it's four-thirty on a Sunday. If I know anything about the way multinational companies work—and I do—there's a skeleton crew at best in the building, maybe a few executives catching up on paperwork so they don't have to go home to their families."

Ravager crossed her arms. "Yeah, but if Blondie here really is telling the truth, then Olympus is evil. Evil companies mean unpaid overtime, which means a building full of assholes."

"Rose, 'any' company means unpaid overtime. But late Sunday is still a safe bet. Cubicle jockeys don't care if their company is good or evil, but they do care about getting out of having to work on the weekend."

"Oh, hooray!" snapped Ravager. "Why don't we just saunter in and see if there's any coffee in the break room? We can offer security some stale doughnuts before they taze us."

Robin grinded his teeth together. "We won't make it that far. Your bitching and moaning is going to get us caught before we even get inside the building."

"Guys," Terra said.

Rising onto her tiptoes, Ravager pushed her face into Robin's until their sunglasses all but touched. "Maybe I don't like the thought of getting shot because some cape gets cocky while he's playing at being a crook."

Terra shoved herself between them. "Hey! You guys can bang later. I didn't stick my neck out for you just to get caught at the stupid front door."

The two of them separated, both grumbling, as Terra mashed her thumb against the door control. Squealing, the door began to roll upwards, and the three teens ducked underneath.

"Fine. But..." Robin began, but trailed off.

A young, scruffy man looked up from his makeshift seat of wooden pallets stacked just inside the door. He wore a gray jumpsuit with stains at the knees. A tool belt was draped beside him over the pallet. He held a hand-rolled cigarette poised halfway to his mouth. His eyes went wide at the sight of them, and he started to rise.

Something metallic flashed past Robin to crack against the man's head. He crumpled to the floor without ever making a sound.

Ravager stood poised with a familiar-looking bo staff tucked in her grip. She grinned and twirled the staff, collapsing it back into a stubby fraction of its full length, and pulled her lapel back to hook the stub onto a thick black utility belt slung over her shoulder beneath the jacket.

Robin scowled. "Did you seriously steal one of my belts too? And spray it black?"

She scoffed and fingered the belt's monogrammed buckle. "No. 'Ravager' starts with an R too, you self-centered prick. And for the record," she said in a sing-song voice, "Ha." She nudged the unconscious man with her boot.

He caught a sickly sweet aroma lingering in the air. "For the record," he shot back, "one maintenance worker sneaking down to the dock to get high doesn't invalidate my strategy. Now shut up and come on."

He lingered only long enough to check the man's pulse before sweeping the rest of the loading dock. As he had guessed, it was empty. He didn't spot any additional cameras or motion detectors.

By the time he returned, Terra and Ravager had already rearranged the loading pallets to hide the unlucky worker. "We're clear. Let's go up." He hooked a thumb at the set of service elevators in the far wall.

Ravager jeered at the grim-faced Teen Wonder. "Oh, come on, grumpy pants. Admit it. You're having a little fun."

It had been a long time since Robin had ghosted through a building's security like this, and even longer since he had done it without the cape. Life with the Titans had lent itself more toward loud, dramatic entrances. This kind of caper reminded him of his early days with Batman. They were among the few fond memories he could recall anymore.

"We're not here for fun," he said brusquely.

She _tsk'd_ and elbowed Terra. The nudge made Terra stagger and clutch at the straps of her backpack. "Even having two hot blondes along can't get him to lighten up. What more could he ask for?"

He jammed the elevators' call button. His voice darkened, and he refused to look back at her. "Ideally, I'd be doing this with Ryuko instead of you two."

Terra frowned. "What the hell happened to him? Immortus put him on my list, but when I showed up, you had her instead," she said, nodding toward Ravager. "Tek said he died. Is that true?"

"Went out like a bitch," Ravager said.

Robin's fists shook at his sides.

Drawing back her jacket, Ravager added, "But don't worry. There's a new Highlander in town."

Terra gaped as she saw the bleached wooden sheath tucked carefully at Ravager's hip so that the folds of her trench coat hid it from view. "Is that what I think it is?" she asked in a hush.

The elevator chimed as it opened. "Quiet," Robin growled, and double-tapped his Bluetooth. "Starfire? We're in. Are you ready?"

* * *

Starfire let the spoon drop into her cup of hot chocolate. She answered in a low voice, "I know what I must do. You are the one who must be prepared, Robin."

"_Don't worry. We'll be careful._"

She looked out through the café window at the skyscraper across the street, and imagined she could see Robin climbing up the inside of the building...with his back to Terra and Ravager.

Scowling, Starfire hissed, "It is the 'we' you are with that I wish you to be careful of."

There was a short pause, and then a curt reply. "_See you soon,_" Robin said. Then the line went dead. She tapped the earpiece hidden behind her hair.

Starfire closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. It was two longer, deeper breaths before she was reasonably certain she could open her eyes again without incinerating the table in front of her. When she looked up, the rest of the café turned its collective gaze elsewhere again.

She forced her fists to unclench and wrapped her hands around her cup. The warm china tingled in her palms. When she took a sip, the warmth spilled inside her, chasing away the lingering cold of winter and easing the ball of righteous fury in her stomach.

When she had decided to come back to Earth, she had told herself that it would be different this time. Things would be better. But now she felt worse than ever before, and felt maddeningly powerless to do anything to change matters.

She touched at her ear again. "Beast Boy? Gar?" she said softly.

She knew he could hear her, just as she knew he wouldn't answer.

"I grow more leery that Terra is leading us on a chase of wild geese," she confided. Her mouth twisted, and she added, "Worse, I am worried that she is being truthful, and so we will owe her some amount of gratitude for coming to us. I do not relish either outcome."

As she lifted the cup to her lips again, the sweet taste turned sour in her mouth. She grimaced, setting the hot chocolate back on the table and pushing it away.

"On Tamaran, our enemies and our friends are always distinct. Only on Earth have I seen those I care about cause so much pain. It makes no sense to me, Gar."

Her fingers clutched at the tablecloth as she felt the words she didn't want to say rising up her throat.

"I am so, so angry at Tim."

She hated herself for saying it. The righteous fury in her stomach burned hotter and brighter, turning everything green. She took another deep breath to steady herself.

"Did you know that he gave me my first hot chocolate?" she asked softly. Her fingers toyed with the end of the spoon in her cup. "It was our first winter together in the Tower. I still did not know enough words to tell him that no cold can bother me. But the drink was so delightfully sweet that it did not matter. I was certain that any boy kind enough to give me such a drink must be equally sweet. But truthfully, Robin is not sweet, is he?

"When I came back, I was convinced that the lies and secrets would stop. But on the very day of my return, they begin again, now worse than ever before. He conspires to allow a traitor back into our midst. And he allows that beastly girl to call herself a Titan. He refuses to answer for his actions, or tell us truths, or..."

Her eyes stung. She shut them hard and wiped them, feeling foolish and furious all at once. "Sometimes I just wonder if two people who are such opposites may ever truly be together."

As soon as she said the words, she remembered who she was speaking to, and her cheeks flushed. "I mean... What I meant was..." she stammered.

Beast Boy didn't answer.

Starfire swallowed the lump in her throat and said nothing more.

* * *

The service elevator reached the thirty-third floor, announcing its arrival with a cheerful _ding_.

Lawrence Crock stared hard at the elevator doors. His hand hovered near the lapel of his red blazer, ready to draw the firearm hidden in his shoulder holster if the need arose. His muscles were relaxed. His breathing was smooth and even. Though his attention was focused forward, he kept aware of the other two security guards standing ready at either side of the doors, each man ready like he was.

As the doors slid open, he held his breath. Then he let it out slowly at the sight of the empty elevator car. Each of the other guards peered around the corners of the doors to confirm that no one was inside. One of them stuck his foot in the door when it started to close, and then looked questioningly to Crock.

Still watching the elevator, Crock raised his cuff to his mouth and spoke into the microphone wired through his jacket. "Central, this is Crock. The unauthorized lift was empty."

"_Copy_," a voice replied through his earpiece. "_Any chance it was accidental?_"

"You need a key to access the floor," Crock reminded him, "even in the service."

"_Copy,_" the voice said again. "_Logging the incident as a malfunction for now. We'll get someone to explain to maintenance what 'restricted floor' means tomorrow. Central clear._"

"Resuming standard sweep. Crock clear."

He crooked his head, motioning for the other two men to follow him. But as the elevator doors closed, he stopped, and listened carefully for the car's descent. Then he waited a moment more. Running a hand across his buzzed blond hair, he reminded himself that equipment could hiccup just like any human could.

But his instincts warned him that something more than a simple elevator malfunction had just happened. And Olympus wasn't paying him embarrassing amounts of money to ignore his instincts.

Several begrudging moments later, Crock and his men moved on with their patrol. It was still minutes more after their footsteps had faded out of the corridor before the elevator doors jiggled open again, pressed to either side by whitened fingertips.

Robin stood at the precipice of the empty elevator shaft. His toes hung on the lip of the door frame with more than thirty stories of echoing darkness looming beneath his heels. The strain of parting the doors made his ribs howl beneath their tight wrappings of athletic tape. "Any time now," he said through his teeth.

Ravager and Terra swung off the suspended elevator cables and into the empty corridor. Once they had slipped under his arms, Robin stumbled forward, sidestepping the doors as they glided closed. Then he leaned on his knees, wheezing softly.

"Jesus," Ravager swore softly, glancing at Robin as she kept watch. "You're winded already? Good thing we didn't take the stairs. Do you want a Gatorade, pookums?"

He had to suck wind for another few seconds before he could growl back, "I ran a three-day marathon this week. Next time you can get the door while I wait on the cable."

Terra glared back at them both as she peered nervously down the other end of the corridor. Her voice became a ghost. "It's this way. I'll take point."

She started to leave, but a sudden grasp on her wrist pulled her back. Robin had straightened himself and slowed his breathing. "I'll take point. Ravager, watch the rear. And Terra," he whispered, fixing her with a meaningful look.

A small pang of nervousness passed over Terra's features as she shifted the straps of her backpack. Ravager noticed at once, a wolfish grin spreading beneath her sunglasses. "Moment of truth, Blondie," whispered Ravager as they began down the corridor at a quick creep. "Here's where we find out if you get fed to the green freak or not."

Terra flashed a look of anger back in reply. "Don't call him a freak," she hissed.

Their chatter ceased as they rounded the corner and came to a long row of offices that ran the breadth of the floor. Each office had its own door and a frosted window, which the teens took care to duck beneath. The effort proved unnecessary, however, as they found each office to be empty. Robin paused at the far end of the corridor just long enough to give Ravager a smug look. She returned the thought with an upraised middle finger.

"They keep upper-middle management on this end," Terra whispered as Robin edged his eye carefully around the corner. "The middle of the floor is a cubicle farm for the rank-and-file. But the—"

Robin wheeled backwards, shoving through Ravager and Terra. "Move!" he breathed.

Seconds later, the tall, immaculately dressed director of Olympus' Special Projects rounded the corner. He had a smartphone pressed to his ear, and spoke in a crisp, calm voice. "Thank you for informing me. I'm glad we caught this now."

Then he stopped. His head tilted to one side as though he were listening to some distant sound. All the while, his phone mumbled at him, unheard. He glanced back over his shoulder, then frowned.

When the phone caught his attention again, he shook his head, and said, "What? No. No, I'll handle it myself. Thank you." He continued down the row of empty offices, disappearing around the far corner.

Robin watched the back of Immortus's head from his perch in the ceiling. His fingers lifted the ceiling tile only a fraction of an inch so he could see down into the corridor. Fury bubbled in his blood at the sight of the man, while his muscles screamed as he tensed himself on the suspended ceiling's thin metal frame, trying to spread his weight to avoid crashing through the cheap material. Electrical wires and air vents snaked around him, creating a small space for him and his two accomplices to crouch.

"Well, what d'ya know," Ravager said in a prison yard whisper. "Blondie was playing straight after all. Guess she's off the menu."

Terra's arms shook with the effort. Her backpack sagged to one side of her, threatening to drag her down and through the ceiling by force. "Super-special-awesome," she wheezed. "Is it clear yet?"

In reply, Robin moved the tile aside completely and dropped to the ground. Terra followed gratefully, and then Ravager after, who fixed the tile as she fell. Robin checked the corner carefully again, and this time he motioned them forward.

The hallway changed at once. Instead of offices, the outside wall was made of windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. The city hung outside the streaked glass, the tall buildings standing so close that they seemed just out of reach, with cars scurrying like cockroaches in the streets far below. The inner wall of the corridor was bare except for three massive doors spaced evenly apart. Each one was more an airlock than a door, made from thick metal and recessed back inside a heavy frame. A keypad stood watch next to each of the doors.

"These are the labs," Terra whispered, and nodded toward the center door. "That's the only one online so far. Once the project expands, they plan to have all three running."

Robin scowled. "They're getting shut down today," he said. "Permanently."

"Ooh, dramatic" said Ravager.

He ignored her and slid up to the door in question, producing his tablet again. Drawing a connector cable from the tablet's casing, he said, "Watch the corners. Two minutes, tops."

Terra nudged him aside, grinning. "How about ten seconds instead?"

She tapped a ten-digit sequence into the keypad. The door hissed with an equalizing of air pressures as it slid aside. Stepping back, Terra gave a performer's flourish and invited him to go first.

"I do my homework too," she told him smugly.

Robin gave her an odd look, and then hardened his face and slipped into the lab, his hands balling into fists, readied for whatever surprises lay inside.

The lab was sparsely equipped, with only three major pieces of hardware to fill the surprisingly large space. Thanks to Terra's stolen files, Robin recognized the impossibly compact particle accelerator in the center of the room, and the squat, post-shaped force field generator sitting dark at the end of the accelerator's aperture, and the unreasonably large power core taking up the corner of the room. On the far wall he saw another door like the first, this one leading into a small observation booth that was visible through the thick window set into the wall.

A man in a lab coat and flannel pajama pants had his back to the door as he scribbled notes on his clipboard. He banged his pen on the particle accelerator's casing, and said impatiently, "Did you forget something?"

Ravager put her boot upside the man's head without warning. The kick flung him onto the base of the accelerator, where he collapsed in a daze.

A scream echoed through a speaker. Robin saw two other lab coats through the observation window. One of them pounded an unseen control board, and the door leading into the booth _clanked_ with the sound of a heavy lock. The other fumbled her phone to her ear.

"_D-Don't come any closer!_" the door-locker stammered through the booth's speakers. "_We're c-c-calling security!_"

Terra screwed her eyes shut and lifted her hands toward the window. The glass rattled in its frame for half a second, and then exploded into a shower of motes no bigger than a sliver. The man and woman trapped in the booth recoiled, both screaming.

The birdarang left Robin's hand almost as an afterthought, cracking the woman's phone with one precise blow. He raised an eyebrow to Terra, and said, "Neat trick with the glass."

A thin trickle of sweat beaded at her temple. She grinned, and said, "It was lead-lined. I can't do much with processed material like that, but I can make it jiggle. But don't think this means I do windows now."

"Don't hurt us," the man begged as Robin and Terra approached the emptied window frame. "T-Take whatever you want, but please—"

"Open them." Robin's spoke in his best Gotham Growl, silencing the two of them.

Shaking, the woman said, "O-Open what? What do you mean?"

"Open them!" he snarled.

They shrank back from him and whimpered. "We don't know what you want!" the man sobbed, wrapping his hands around his head.

Terra hopped over the lip of the window frame, careful to avoid the jagged edge. As the two scientists scrambled backwards on their hands to escape her, she ignored them, and sat at one of the active workstations. "Gimmie a second," she told Robin. "I got it."

Ravager reached down to the man she had kicked. Hauling him up by the lapels, she said, "Those bed-wetters in there obviously aren't in charge. That would make you...?"

His broken glasses dangled from his face by a single stem as he lolled his head in her general direction. A thin line of blood dribbled down from his nose and across his lips as he slurred, "I'm th' calc'lat'r."

"Sorry, what was that?" asked Ravager, letting him sag so she could cup a hand to her ear. "I don't speak impending corpse."

Something in the lab _clacked_ before Robin could chide Ravager. He glanced back at Terra, who nodded. "Got the first one. Second one is trickier..."

Robin followed the noise to the particle accelerator. The device itself wasn't more than two feet tall and a little more than two feet wide. It was built onto a platform to sit about even with his chest, spanning almost six feet in length. He shivered, realizing that the proportions weren't far off from those of a cheap coffin.

The clacking noise continued as Robin watched the clamp locks of the device's casing unlatch themselves. As the last clamp disengaged, the digital readout on the side of the device went dark. Robin dug his fingers under the lip of the cover and flung it off, revealing the single component of the world's smallest particle accelerator.

The smell struck him first, punching his nose like a Kryptonian haymaker. It was the pungent cocktail of sweat and fear, the same smell that had chilled his blood the first time Batman had taken him to Arkham Asylum. Robin felt his lips pull back on his teeth in a silent snarl as he reached inside.

Standing with his back pressed to the wall, the man in the control booth cried, "What are you doing? That equipment is extremely sensitive!"

Robin's touch elicited a soft moan from the girl who lay inside the particle accelerator. She looked no older than fifteen, and had been half-starved. Robin could count her ribs through the yellow bodysuit she wore. A halo of short blond hair surrounded her head, brittle and greasy as Robin brushed it away from her features. Her face was pale and clammy, and drawn in an expression of faint, constant pain.

"Yeah," Robin said darkly. "She is."

The girl in the accelerator began to stir. Robin grew alarmed as he began to take stock of the dozens of needles and tubes connected to her through the thin material of her bodysuit. He recognized the IV drip fed into her wrist, and the colostomy bag connected near her hip. But the array of wiring plunged into her looked like some form of mad torture Robin had never seen before. She looked to be at the center of some gruesome technological cocoon.

As her eyes fluttered open, Robin rested a hand on her shoulder, pressing gently to keep her from moving. "Ssh," he murmured. "Don't move. I have to unhook you first."

She looked up at him with glazed confusion. Robin realized that she didn't have enough strength left to hurt herself by moving too quickly. He suppressed a hot wave of rage and focused instead on the slow, methodical process of pulling her free.

"Mmmnngh... Wh...Who?" she groaned.

"Do you remember your name?" Robin asked her.

She groaned again. "Je...Jesse," she answered. The sandpaper words made her cringe in pain. "Who are you? Where am I?"

He worked the needles from her legs, trying not to cringe at the small dots of red soaking into her yellow suit that marked his handiwork. "What's the last thing you remember?" he said.

Jesse's eyes began to clear. She blinked, and said, "Running. I was running home. I had just hit Nebraska, when...when there was this flash of red, and then...then..."

Robin removed the IV drip last. He slid his hands under her bony shoulder blades and began to lift her slowly. Her hands found the edge of the casing as she sat up, her whole body trembling with the effort even as Robin helped her.

With obvious effort, she turned to look at Robin. "Who are you?" she asked again.

"We're the Teen Titans. We're here to rescue you," said Robin.

Her gaze flitted up and down his outfit and came to rest on his wraparound sunglasses. After a moment's consideration, she croaked, "Bullshit."

The word made Robin's lips twitch into a half-smile. "We're a little underdressed at the moment, but it's us."

The woman behind Terra shrieked at the sight of the skeletal girl rising from their particle accelerator. She clapped a hand over her mouth, and said through her fingers, "Who is that? How did she get in there?"

"Her name is Jesse Chambers," Terra said, not bothering to turn around as she continued to hammer the keyboard.

"Why was she in our particle accelerator?" the man cried.

"She 'was' your particle accelerator," Terra snapped, and spun in her chair to fix him with a fearsome look. "She's a speedster. Are you seriously gonna stand there and tell me you didn't know you were using a person like she was a goddamn toaster?"

A wet cackle rasped out of the man in Ravager's clutches. "Of course they didn't," he said, his eyes still bleary, his limbs askew. "I keep them around to push buttons on a computer. All they saw was a magic box that did the job. They didn't even question it! Do you think either one of these Ivy League washouts had the genius necessary to harness the kinetic conversion properties of a metahuman into—"

Ravager let him drop to the ground. She drew her borrowed staff and snapped it to length, and then jammed its end into the heap of scientist at her feet. "Christ, but you freaks like to hear yourselves talk." She glared at Terra over the frames of her sunglasses and snapped, "Blondie, any day now!"

"Aaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnddd..." Terra drawled as her fingers tacked out a storm of keystrokes. She jabbed one last key with a triumphant cry. "Got it! The second chamber needs a manual release, but it's unlocked now."

"Get it done," Robin snapped. "Ravager, clear the hallway. We're leaving."

Ravager grumbled under her breath and took a step toward the open lab door.

And the world around her slowed to a crawl.

Her excited pulse became a plodding, languorous drumbeat in her ears. The rest of the noise in the room slowed as well, pitching into a low rumble she could almost feel in her bones, until it became too low a pitch to even hear. The only sound that remained was that of her own thunderous heart.

She saw Robin arched as he lifted Jesse from the casing by her armpits. They moved as though they were both underwater. The wires that had cocooned Jesse drifted off of her like strands of kelp caught in an ocean current. Terra inched through the air, her hand still pressing against the frame as she hung above the window in mid-jump, her long hair tossed behind her like a frozen wave.

Ravager tried to cry out, but her lips were molasses. The breath in her lungs sat like lead. She tried to move, but she couldn't. She couldn't even turn her head to see behind her. She simply knew what the room looked like, knew what was happening around her.

Then she caught a flicker of shadow on the floor in front of the open door. In slow motion, she saw a hand emerge from around the edge of the door to fling a metal cylinder into the room. The shape tumbled end over end, and then seemed to stop in front of Ravager. She saw her own shocked expression warped in the curve of the metal. Then she tried to scream as the cylinder bulged and burst into a wave of blinding white force.

The wave crawled over Ravager, yanking her skin and clothes backwards as it threw her from her feet. She felt her ribs collapse into knives that filled her chest, choking her with white-hot pain. Her scream became a wet, red cough, the blood bubbling in an arc behind her as she fell.

Jesse fell atop Robin, her weight combining with the force of the blast to slam him spine-first into the empty window. His face contorted in pain as he lost his grip on her, and she tumbled through the window, smashing through the array of computers inside. Terra was caught in midair, and the blast pitched her hard against the back wall of the observation booth. Ravager imagined she could hear bones cracking as Terra fell sluggishly from the wall, her neck twisted at an unnatural angle.

Ravager felt her pain become dull and cold until she couldn't feel anything anymore. Her vision blurred, and then blackened, until finally she became nothing.

And then she blinked.

Sucking in a sudden breath, Ravager found herself standing in the laboratory. Her body was whole again. The staff was still in her hand. Terrified, she whirled around, and saw Robin wrapping his hands under Jesse's armpits. Terra had grasped the edge of the empty window frame to hurdle it. Everything was moving as its normal speed and, aside from her pounding heartbeat, everything sounded as it should.

Whirling again, Ravager saw a flicker of shadow out in the hallway. She didn't hesitate. Hefting the staff, she threw it like a javelin, aiming for an empty spot near the edge of the door. A hand appeared from around the corner just as the staff's end flew through. The tip of the staff rang against the metal cylinder in the hand, and then the hallway erupted with a flash of noise.

Ravager staggered backwards against what remained of the subdued detonation. She thought she heard Robin shouting, but couldn't understand him above the ringing in her ears. When she turned, she saw him produce a handful of pellets from his jacket and fling them at a sensor in the ceiling.

The pellets erupted into black smoke. The sensor gave a single, shrill klaxon, pulsing with orange light. Then the door to the lab slammed shut. Robin said something else, but Ravager still couldn't hear. "What?" she shouted over the dwindling chime in her ears.

"I said, 'thank god for contamination protocols,' " he shouted. Even as he did, large vents in the ceiling began to hum, drawing up the smoke before it could drift down around the teens' heads. "That was quick thinking with the concussion grenade, Ravager," he added. "Good work."

Ravager clenched her fists to keep her hands from trembling. She had no idea what the strange experience just seconds ago had been. It had not been a vision, she knew that much. The experience had captured all of her senses, and had felt perfectly, agonizingly real. But how could it have been? And how could she have seen the grenade after it was thrown, but acted before it was thrown?

"Terra?" Robin snapped.

The blonde scrambled toward the power core in the corner of the lab. "I'm going! I'm going!" she retorted. She hesitated at the control panel mounted on the large, rounded metal tower, and then pressed a sequence of buttons.

The tower split along an unseen seam down its round side. Mist spilled from the opening, so cold to the touch that it startled Terra back. She felt the billowing white gas flow across her ankles as the tower opened wider, revealing its contents inside.

A blinding lattice of blue-white energy crackled between the thousand metal tines that lined the interior of the power core. Each of the forked tines held a thread of the energy as it skittered within its small confines. As the doors swung open, the energy began to wrench itself free of the tines, pulling free in great clumps of lightning that retracted into the pulsing mass at the center. When the last of the energy was free, it poured into itself, pooling into a shape with large, oblong limbs stretching in every direction.

Robin approached the open tower, shielding his eyes. Even with sunglasses, it was almost impossible to watch as the energy's shape continued to define itself. Its shape seemed to struggle with the limbs, forcing them to crackle into the proper positions, until finally it resembled the vague, irregular outline of a human being.

The energy dimmed. Robin let his hand drop and stepped between the open doors of the tower. He stretched out his arm, ignoring Terra's gasp as the energy wrapped around his fingers. The hairs on his arm wriggled beneath his sleeve as he felt a solid weight enter his grasp.

As Robin lifted, the blue-white outline solidified into shape. Nebulous energy became a hand that filled his, taking his aid in rising to feet that were still forming. The light faded into something akin to flesh, still faintly luminous as it came to resemble the musculature of a scrawny teenage boy. The glow around his legs and hips turned purplish-black to suggest pants, and a purple-black lightning bolt appeared across his chest like a sash. Brilliant purple energy rolled from the middle of his scalp, standing on its end in a glowing Mohawk.

"...wow," said Terra, blinking. "That's pretty awesome."

The newly-materialized boy stared up at Robin with white, featureless eyes. He drew his hand back cautiously. "Thank you," he said in a faint voice.

"You're Killowat, right?" Robin asked him. He took a step backwards, drawing Terra with him so that they no longer crowded the boy back against his former prison. "I've heard of you. The boy made of living electricity."

"Something like that," Killowat said. "And you're...I don't know who you are."

"Teen Titans, yada-yada," Ravager snarled. "Can we freaking GO now?"

Killowat blinked. "Titans? Seriously? How did I rate you guys?"

Robin was about to answer when an irregular hissing noise trickled through the door. Seconds later, a thin jet of sparks emerged at the edge and began to slowly work its way down the metal.

"Can you get out of here on your own?" Robin asked Killowat. "Escape through a power line, or a light fixture, or something?"

Killowat closed his eyes. Crackling electricity jumped from finger to finger as he flexed his hand, pushing it toward one of the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. But that was the only power he could muster before he dropped his arm, defeated.

"I feel like every piece of me just ran a triathlon," he explained defensively. "If I just had enough time to recharge..."

Grimacing, Robin looked back to Jesse Chambers. She stood half-draped over the edge of the particle accelerator, her legs still shaking with the effort of supporting her weight. There was no chance of her walking out of her under her own power. That meant that he, Terra, and Ravager would have to fight their way through an unknown number of guards to reach an exit while protecting two helpless metahumans. The guards were obviously better armed than standard corporate security, and Robin knew they couldn't count on getting lucky again like Rose had with the first attack.

He double-tapped his earpiece. The redialed line began to ring. After a maddening few seconds, an automated voicemail system answered. He cursed, hung up, and called again.

"Come on, Starfire..." he said through his teeth. "Come on, pick up!"

* * *

Starfire heard her burner phone ringing through her earpiece. She could feel it vibrate against the leg of her chair from where it hung in the pocket of her raincoat. It could only be Robin calling her, and it meant that their plan had gone awry.

She wanted to answer it, but her arms were tensed and motionless, her hands clenched tightly below the tabletop. The light from her eyes turned the white tablecloth green as she felt her anger bubbling dangerously close to the surface.

Standing on the other side of the table, General Immortus smiled. He rested his hand on the back of the chair across from her, and said, "May I please join you?"

**To Be Continued**


End file.
